Tuesday, August 19, 2008

Who Is Jesus?

Jesus asked that question of His disciples – “Who do men say that I am?” They answered that some said he was John the Baptist, others that He was Elijah. But He got to the heart of the matter when He asked “Who do you say that I am? Peter answered “Thou art the Christ, the Son of the Living God.”

Who is Jesus? There aren’t enough words in any language to describe Him. There aren’t enough writers, enough poets, enough composers to begin to describe who He is or how wonderful He is or the many, many facets of His life, His death, His ministry.

All attempts to define Him will fall short of Who He is, for how can the finite explain the infinite? How can mortality explain immortality? How can man describe the God who created him?

But He is the One we all need.

All men find in Him their true north, their center.

He is what we all want to be; He is all we can be.

He was high and lifted up, and He was meek and lowly.

He is the Christ of theological study, and He is known in the crush and press of life.

He is the greatest of personalities in the annals of recorded history, yet He keeps company with the outcast and downtrodden.

He is the Christ of the ages and the Christ of today.

Wise men seek Him, minstrels sing about Him, artists depict Him, teachers explain Him, scholars study Him, poets frame Him in a song.

He is as eternal as the ages and as contemporary as today.

He is the Sweetest of the sweet and the Fairest of the fair.


Who is Jesus?

He created the oceans, streams, lakes and rivers, yet He said “I Thirst.”

He created the sun, moon, and stars, yet He said “I am the light of the world.”

He is the Creator of worlds, but able to receive little children to Himself.

He spoke the world into existence, but before His accusers He opened not His mouth.


Who is Jesus?

He inhabited the ivory palaces, but was born in a barn.

He was warmed on that cold night by the misty breath of cattle and oxen.

His crib was an animals’ feeding trough.

Wise men came from afar bearing HIm gifts, but humble shepherds came from a nearby field with nothing in their hands.


Who is Jesus?

He grew up as a Root out of Dry Ground, but He is worshipped and adored by countless millions.

He fasted alone in the desert, yet fed thousands with a few loaves and some small fishes.

He called to men and they left everything to follow Him.

He never went beyond the confines of His country, yet He is known around the globe.

He claimed to be God, and lived among men as one of them.

He condemned sin in the flesh, yet welcomed the wandering son back home.

He preached on the mountain and prayed in the garden.

He accepted those who others had cast out. He touched and healed those who others had called unclean.

He spoke of simple things – the fowls of the air, the lilies of the field, a grain of mustard seed.

He railed at the hypocrites, the money changers, and the self-righteous, but had only words of comfort for a self-acknowledged sinner on a cross.

He spoke of His Kingdom and said it is come.

He fed multitudes. He walked on water. He raised the dead.

His pulpit was a mountain, a field, a boat.

Wise men paid Him homage, religious men scorned Him, ordinary men followed Him.

He was baptized in water, straitened in suffering, bathed in blood.

He spoke against sin and evil, yet He was called a glutton and a winebibber.

He condemned pharisaical righteousness yet wrote in the sand and saved an adulteress from those who would stone her.

He prepared a place for all men, but He had nowhere to lay His head.

It was never recorded that He was sick, or worried, or scared, or hopeless, or fearful, or thoughtless, or rude. Yet His love inspired hate, His miracles evoked malice, His healings elicited hatred.


Who is Jesus?

He traded a robe of glory for swaddling clothes. He traded the seamless robe for the purple robe of mockery. He traded a crown of glory for a crown of thorns. He traded majesty and divinity for scorn and mockery. He traded a throne for a cross.

He was betrayed by one of His disciples, forsaken by the rest.

He carried His own cross. He gave His back to the smiters. He opened His hands to receive the nails. No man took His life – He willingly laid it down.

He was transfigured on the mountain, disfigured on the cross.

He called Zacchaeus down from a tree, but would not Himself come down from the tree where they nailed Him.

He was a Carpenter who built a bridge with a hammer and three nails.

He healed sickness and forgave sins, but took all our sin on sickness upon Himself on the tree.

He did not free Himself from death on the cross, but broke the bands of death when He rose from the dead.

He was rejected that we might be accepted. He was bound that we might be free. He was oppressed that we might be set at liberty. He was afflicted that we might be comforted. He was despised that we might be loved. He was bruised that we might be made whole. He was put to grief that we might be brought in.


Who is Jesus?

He cheated death of its power by rising from the dead.

He left empty the manger, the cross and the tomb. He lives forever to fill the hearts and souls of those who will receive Him.

You can point to His tomb but not to His body, for He’s no longer there.

Death could not keep Him, the grave could not hold Him, darkness could not claim Him.

The empty tomb continues to give hope to those without hope. The risen Christ at God’s right hand continues to be the Friend of those who have no friends.


Who is Jesus?

He was the Son of God, the Son of Man, the Son of David.

He is the Way, the Truth, the Life.

He is the First and the Last, the complete revelation of God.

He is the Good Shepherd and the Lamb of God.

He is the Rock of Ages and the Stone That The Builders Rejected.

He is the Wonderful Counselor, the Prince of Peace, the Altogether Lovely One.

He was the King of kings, yet He fellowshipped with sinners.

He was a Prophet, a Priest, a King; a Shepherd, a Teacher, a Healer.

He was the King of the Jews. Today He is the monarch of millions.

He is the Vine, the Branch, a Root out of Dry Ground – the Tree of Life.

He is the magnificent, the wonderful, the ineffable Son of God.

He is the High and Holy One, the Avenger of Wrongs, the Way, Truth and Life.

He is the One at God’s right hand.

He is the King of angels and the Servant of all.

He is very God of very God, but so much like you and me.

He is Living Water, He is the Bread of Life.

His love is better than the finest of wines. He is honey in the rock.

He wrote no books, but He is the Author and Finisher of our faith.

He never led an army, but He is the Captain of the Lord’s Host and a Man of War.

He never built a building, but He makes His home in the souls of men.

He never asked a dime, but He is the riches of glory of God.


Who is Jesus?

He was poor but He made many rich. He became weak that we might be strong. He died that men might live. He lives that men might not die. He lives forever that we might follow in His train.

He confounds wise men but is known and loved by little children.

His is the only name among religious figures that men use as a curse, but millions whisper that name lovingly, adoringly every day.

His name is cursed by men every day, but no unkind word ever left His lips.

Other great men have amassed fortunes, founded global enterprises, governed countries, commanded armies. He did none of these things. He came, He lived, He died, He rose from the dead.

Other religious leaders left a series of steps, of things to do, of teachings to follow. He did none of those things. He was His own message.

He is as strong as an oak tree and as tender as a mother’s love.

He is studied about in seminaries, but ordinary men and women in villages and hamlets across the globe talk with Him on a daily basis.

He claimed to be the Son of God and the Savior of the World, but He left no written record, no compilation of what should be believed and done. Instead, He left His entire enterprise in the shaky hands of a few stumbling, bumbling men who were more adept at fishing and tax collecting than they were at running a religion. It had to be thus, for His impact is in His Person, not in a creed. Those men, later filled and empowered from on high, were accurate to present His cause as Himself and not a set of beliefs or steps to take to a fuller life. His message, His proposal, His Kingdom, were just that – Himself. “I am the Way, I am the Truth, I am the Life.”


Who is Jesus?

Only He can tell the honor of His name. Open wide your heart and listen. He will share with you the glories of His Person and the Wonders of His Love.

Monday, June 16, 2008

It Is Well

When Jesus saved me, all well broke loose.

Sunday, June 01, 2008

A Fortress Sure

The one who knows what it is to dwell in the secret place of the Most High has a fortress sure, a dwelling place secure, free from pressures within and without. That fortress is not in an ethereal, far-off never-never land but in the depths of his spirit; Christ dwells in us and we dwell in Him, not in theory but in a glorious reality.

I dwell within a castle sure,
A strong and mighty tower,
Hidden in the heart of God,
Protected by His power.

And here within my castle walls
My heart is calm all day,
While outside rage the rain and wind
And comes whatever may.

Many's the storm that's come and gone,
The tempests that raged and roared;
Safe, I, within my castle walls,
Sheltered in my Lord.

Thursday, May 22, 2008

One With Christ

I ave written poems for friends' weddings several times in the past. This poem is for an upcoming June wedding. The poem gives a revelation of the symbolism in our wedding ceremony - the ring, the name, the veil, etc. Everything points out that a wedding depicts the union between Christ and His church, His bride. We are called to be one with Him. That's an incredible thought of which we have yet to plumb the depths.

Behold what here now taketh place,
United now by faith and grace -
In symbol and in deed and word,
Forever are we with the Lord.

The bridegroom waiteth for his bride;
Soon she’ll be standing by his side.
Soon they shall together be
Both now and for eternity.

The Bride of Christ comes to her Lord;
All our wandering days are o’er;
So shall we ever be with God,
Nor separated anymore.

The bride appears all dressed in white;
She is holy in his sight.
His wedding garment white we don,
A righteousness that is all His own.

He gives to her a golden band
For the finger of her hand;
The gold speaks of Christ’s purity
He gives to us fresh, full and free.

She takes his name, gives up her own;
By his name now she is known.
As nature in a name is found,
Christ’s to us is ever bound.

Each to the other makes their vows,
Insep’rably bound, as tree and bough;
Worse or better, sickness, health,
Younger, older, poorer, wealth.

He lifts the veil from off her face
And she can see. Amazing Grace,
Christ lifts the veil from our blind eyes
And we behold Him, ever nigh.

He gives to her a holy kiss,
As God caresses earth with mist.
So we receive His love divine,
More precious than the choicest wine.

Flesh of flesh and bone of bone,
Of the two He has made one.
One with Christ – O precious thought,
The wonder that our God has wrought.

Saturday, April 12, 2008

My All In All

The things I count as gain are loss,
My riches are exposed as dross.
I cast my crowns down at your feet
And bow before the mercy seat.

I come in poverty to receive Thy wealth,
In sickness to receive Thy health.
In sin I receive Thy righteousness,
Naked, clothed in Thy glorious dress.

I come in darkness to receive Thy light,
Blind, I come, to receive Thy sight.
Feed me and my hunger shall be no more,
Slake my thirst from Thy boundless store.

Your strength for my weakness I now receive,
Your faith for my doubtings, Lord, I believe.
Your wisdom for my ignorance,
Your everything for my nothingness.

Monday, February 18, 2008

Abraham, Martin and John

If you've never heard the original song by Dion, click here.


Anybody here seen my old friend Abraham?
Can you tell me where he's gone?
He freed lotta people but it seems the good they die young
You know I just looked around and he's gone

Anybody here seen my old friend John?
Can you tell me where he's gone?
He freed lotta people but it seems the good they die young
I just looked around and he's gone

Anybody here seen my old friend Martin?

Can you tell me where he's gone?
He freed lotta people but it seems the good they die young
I just looked around and he's gone

Didn't you love the things that they stood for?
Didn't they try to find some good for you and me?
And we'll be free
Some day soon, it's gonna be one day

Anybody here seen my old friend Bobby?
Can you tell me where he's gone?
I thought I saw him walkin' up over the hill
With Abraham, Martin, and John.

(Words and music by Richard Holler)

Thursday, December 20, 2007

No Greater Treasure

Why just a babe in a manger?
Why not a glorious hall,
A marblestone palace with ramparts
And turrets and towers and all?

Why aren't there ladies and lords?
Why just these shepherds and sheep?
Why not the brightest and best
Instead of a dark night so deep?

Why not two parents of royal
Descent, of lineage grand,
A heritage fit for a king,
Instead of this maid and this man?

Why not a royal parade
With cornets and psalteries and harps?
Why just the braying of beasts
In the night, in the cold, in the dark?

This King needs no palace or pomp,
No glitter or glory or gold,
For He is the treasure of Heaven
That cannot be bought or be sold.

What men prize as treasures are cheap,
Hold no weight in the courts of the Lord,
And this stable with oxen and cattle
Is palace enough for our God.

For the treasure itself lies within,
'Tis Jesus, the fairest of fair,
And anything earth could afford
Would be but as dust were it there.

It matters not how poor the setting
If it holds the greatest of gifts;
If Jesus is guest in the hall
There's no greater treasure than this.

Monday, December 10, 2007

The God-Man

Our God enfleshed in Christ has come,
Let royal wisdom strike us dumb;
To save our lost and fallen race
He takes on human form and face.

Who could conceive of such a plan?
'Twas not devised by likes of man;
Only wisdom from above
Could conceive such saving love.

For mortal man had lost it all
From Adam's failure in the fall;
But sinful man can't pay the price
So God becomes the sacrifice.

Man could not atone for sin
Nor could God die, but look within
The stable rude - our God appears
As man, and Calv'ry's moment nears.

For just a while He's with us here,
For these three and thirty years;
He lives the only sinless life
'Midst our sorrow and our strife.

Then in Gethsemane He takes
Our sin and Satan's thralldom breaks,
When on the cross He nails it there
And we escape the fowler's lair.

Let joy come down like falling rain
For love has broken sin's dark chains,
Let every human heart become
The dwelling place of Christ, the Son.

Saturday, December 08, 2007

Heaven's Best

Earth cared not for this Son of God,
No place to lay his head,
Offered naught but sheets of straw,
A manger for a bed.

No room, they said, within the inn,
But there's a barn outside;
Soon forgotten in the cold,
They heard not when he cried.

But heaven gave its very best -
A star to guide the way
Of those who came across the wilds
To where the young child lay.

And angels to announce his birth
To shepherds in the field,
And to give to him the name
Above all names revealed.

Look up and lift your eyes from earth
To see his star above,
To hear the wonders of his name
From messengers of love.

Wednesday, December 05, 2007

Joseph

I think this poem brings Joseph out of the background where he has been hidden for too long and says everything that needs to be said about fathers, what they should be and what they should do.

"Joseph, fear not," said the angel,
"To take to thee Mary thy wife."
It was Joseph who would guard the young child
Through the the soon-coming trouble and strife.

It was to Joseph the angel
Spoke that sweetest Name, all names above,
'Twas Joseph who gave Him that name -
JESUS, the Son of God's love.

It was Joseph who watched over Mary
And cared for the family of God,
Who guided and guarded and took them
To Bethlehem town as they trod.

It was Joseph who asked the innkeeper
If a room perchance he might have,
And 'twas Joseph who readied the manger
'Mong'st the goats and the sheep and the calves.

It was Joseph who watched o'er his family
As shepherds and wise men came there;
It was Joseph who guarded his flock
And kept his small family in prayer.

The angel appeared unto Joseph
In a dream saying "Rise up and go;
Take mother and child into Egypt
And be there 'til I let you know."

For Herod was ranting and raving
And sought the life of the child,
But Joseph, the husband and father,
Kept them from cruel Herod's wiles.

Again, in a dream, did the angel
Tell Joseph 'twas safe to return,
So he took the young child and his mother
Back to Israel where Jesus learned

As he sat at the feet of his father,
And helped at the carpenter's trade,
That fathers are strong and courageous
And good, like the tables he made.

And still today God looks for Josephs,
For husbands and fathers who love,
Who'll guard the great gifts God has given
And be like our Father above.

Monday, December 03, 2007

The Magi's Gifts

What strange gifts for a little child;
Would he not rather have a top, a toy,
That he could play with as a boy?
Why bring these gifts through regions wild?

What stirred within their hearts to bring
Such presents to a peasant's babe?
What sentiments were there portrayed?
Or were they off'rings for a king?

What meant this strange gift of myrrh
Which does not celebrate his birth
But puts the value and the worth
On his dying, as it were?

And why this gift of frankincense?
'Tis used in worship of our God.
And yet this babe on common sod
Is worthy such extravagance.

For gold depicts divinity indeed,
And so the wise men, not beguiled,
Knew that Jesus, Holy Child,
Was Christ the Son, the Royal Seed.

O Jesus, Jesus, stir my heart
To bring Thee gifts of precious worth
As frankincense and gold and myrrh
That I might know Thee as Thou art.

Friday, August 31, 2007

But We See Jesus (Hebrews 2:9)

We see not all things conquered now
And put beneath His feet;
The victory we long for so
Seems not to be complete.

But we see Jesus, made like us,
In God's great glorious plan,
To suffer, bleed and die, to taste
Of death for every man.


We see not self subject to Him,
But consumed with sin and lust,
So very far from being here
What is true and right and just.

But we see Jesus, Son of God,
Who bore all of our sin,
That we by God's surpassing grace
Might one day be like Him.


We see not evil brought to bay
But rampant, running free;
A bleeding, dying world knows not
How things could one day be.

But we see Jesus, Son of Man,
Made like sinful flesh,
To raise us from our lost estate
By His life and by His death.

Saturday, August 04, 2007

Another Comforter

This poem expresses something I have been wanting to say for a while now - that the Holy Spirit is more than just celestial leftovers or a flashlight in Jesus' hands; He is the Spirit of Christ, the manifest Presence of God within us, the same Spirit that raised Christ from the dead. The poem places the reader in the place of one of the disciples to consider what it must have been like to actually know Jesus and be with Him, and then hear that He was going away. Then Jesus said "it is expedient for you that I go away" and that He would send another Comforter to be with them forever. That must not have made any sense to them - that it was good that this wonderful, unique Son of God would leave them - until the Holy Spirit came and they knew - they knew - that He had come to them again.

Imagine if you’d walked with the disciples of the Lord
And been one of the twelve, and heard his every word;
He’d spoke to you and said “Now, come and follow me;”
You’d dropped your nets and left, knowing not what was to be.

Because you felt in him such promise and such truth,
You’d give him all you had – your strength, your love, your youth.
You’d heard that awesome voice that created everything
And created within you the strength to love and serve this king.

His words were right and true and you could count on what he said;
His words could calm the sea, heal the sick, and raise the dead.
His voice was like the sound of many waters’ flow,
Like an eagle on the wing, like the morning breezes blow.

You’d looked into those eyes with their penetrating gaze
That looked into your soul and saw all of your days,
Eyes not to condemn, but that brimmed with friendship’s trust,
Eyes that spoke of things that were pure and true and just.

And you had felt the touch of his hand upon your arm
To guide you and protect you and to keep you safe from harm;
With his arm around your shoulders as you journeyed and you trod,
As he walked along beside you, you felt the touch of God.

You didn’t understand all the things that he had said –
How he’d die upon a cross and then rise up from the dead;
But you kept them in your heart for you knew that they could be,
For anything could happen with this man from Galilee.

He believed in you when no one else would do the same;
He spoke of things above, not of fortune or of fame.
The Kingdom of the Lord was his one recurring theme,
And you believed it come, or could – or so it seemed

Until one day he told you that he’d have to go away;
Your world fell all apart – you felt a castaway.
For he was your best friend – no one else could take his place –
No one else held such a promise, or such glory, or such grace.

But he said that he would send another Comforter,
One just like the first; he’d be with you, as it were.
For the Spirit that would come would be in every sense the same;
He was going to the Father and would send Him in His name.


But when it came to pass – when they nailed him to the tree –
You had fled like all the rest; it seemed such irony
That such promise and such truth could be cut down so soon,
That the bright star of the morning could be darkened before noon.

Then he arose and for a while it was just as it had been –
You were back, you band of brothers; could it be that way again?
But when he had ascended you again were left alone,
But you waited as he told you, with a hope more than your own.

And on the day of Pentecost, the Holy Spirit came
Just as he had promised, with sound of wind and fire of flame.
And the Christ that walked beside you now lived in you and you knew
He’d come back to you forever, he’d not abandoned you.

And you could tell the world of this lovely Son of God,
For he was with you and was in you, and with every step you trod
His words, his strength, his power flowed like blood within your veins;
The Christ was your companion and you conquered in his name.

And so it is today for every blood-bought child of God - You’re not abandoned, not alone, as you dwell on common sod,
For the Christ who called and claimed you and who gave you life anew
In this blessed Holy Spirit again lives his life in you.

It’s him! It’s not another; you’re not orphaned, not alone!
His Spirit lives within and he has made your heart his home.
Fling wide the gates and ope’ the doors and let the Spirit flow.
He’s come to you forever – let the winds of heaven blow.

Saturday, June 30, 2007

A Single Eye

The light of the body is the eye: therefore when thiine eye is single, thy whole body also is full of light. (Jesus - Luke 11:34a)

To have this single eye
Is my heart's only goal,
To fix my gaze upon
The lover of my soul.

To see not circumstance
Nor the storm around me rage,
Content with fixéd gaze
As a dove within its cage

Sees nought but love's desire,
The object of its heart,
So I would look to Thee
From the very start.

One window in the side
Of Noah's diluvial ark
Serves as an outward sign
To which my soul would hark.

And I will have this eye
That sees but things above,
That sees celestial scenes
And the object of its love.

Sunday, June 17, 2007

Jacob, Was It Jesus?

Jacob, did you wrestle with a man that night alone?
Did you wrestle in the darkness 'til the breaking of the dawn?
Was it God with whom you wrestled, of whom you'd not let go?
Tell me, Jacob, was it Jesus, and with us can it be so?

Can we touch him and compel him not to leave us, not to go?
Can we hold him through the night until the morning light doth show?
Will he touch us as he touched you in the hollow of your thigh?
Will he take away our strength? Will we halt as we walk by?

Will he speak as he spoke to you when he asked of you your name?
Will he give to us a new one that we never be the same?
I think I know the answer but must ask of you again -
O, Jacob, was it Jesus? Can we go where you have been?

Monday, May 21, 2007

Oh, Grace of God in Christ

My poetry sounds like something from an earlier age. That makes sense because a lot of my reading is of earlier writers; I find their focus is different than much of what is out in our day and time. It seems to me that those who went before us were centered more on knowing God Himself rather than knowing about Him and what He can do for us. I'm sure that all of what gets written today is valid and worth knowing; it's just that my heart has been made captive to the One who died and rose again for me and I gravitate to those things that echo my attraction to Him.

So if my verse sounds like its lifted from an old hymnal, its because that language is what I've fed my spirit with, and that's what comes out. Actually, I prefer it this way; earlier writings were more weighty, more impacting. So if thou art ready, read on.

Oh, grace of God in Christ,
I raise my paen to Thee,
That ope'd my eyes, revived my soul,
And set my spirit free.

Thou many-hymned bequest of God,
How much to Thee I owe;
My eyes were closed to all above,
But not to here below,

For my delight in sensual usts
Did leap and bound apace;
I'd have no sense of things above
'Twere not for sovereign grace.

You snatched me from the miry clay,
From the very jaws of hell,
And set me firm upon the Rock,
And this I know full well.

For grace has set before me now
A land so vast, so fair,
And Eden of Thy pleasures, Lord,
And I am happy there.

Friday, May 04, 2007

THE WELL BY THE SIDE OF THE ROAD

I turned off one day from the much-beaten path
And there I did find an old well,
It was nearly half-hid by the side of the road
In a quaint little countryside dell

At the edge of a forest quite dark and quite deep
By the side of the old, dusty road,
Where the leaves grew so thick and the shadows they creeped,
And I stopped there and laid down my load.

A much-hurried traveler would never have seen
This place that by chance I had found,
But I was so weary and needed to rest,
So I stopped and laid my burden down.

Some grass grew around the side of the well;
I could tell it was not worn with wear
As it might have been if a multitude
Of others had often been there.

The stones were quite cool and damp to the touch,
In the shade of the green forest trees,
And I was refreshed just by being there
And caressed by a soft, gentle breeze.

I took off my hat and I laid down my staff,
Moved the planks from the mouth of the well;
Then I turned the crank and let down the wood pail
To bring water up from the well.

Never before had I drunk such as this -
'Twas so cool and so sweet and so pure;
It refreshed me throughout and I knew I had found
What I had been long searching for.

'Twas the water of life, for the well it was Christ,
And I felt I had met there with God.
And to think that I almost - I could have passed by
The well by the side of the road.

Monday, April 23, 2007

CLOTHED IN LIGHT

The swaddling clothes of infancy
Envelop Him no more;
The manger could not hold Him
Nor the things that once He wore.

He took a towel and girt Himself
And washed disciples' feet;
He wore it in humility
And would make us as meek.

The purple robe that mocked Him
Lies crumpled on the floor;
They could not mar His majesty,
Of kings the King, of lords the Lord.

He seamless robe, the symbol
Of perfected humanity,
Lies underneath the cross,
His gift to you and me.

A vesture dipped in blood He wore
Who is Faithful, Who is True,
In righteousness to judge and war
And make creation new.

The tomb is dark and empty,
Save the linen cloth He wore
In death, for He is risen
And lives forevermore.

And now He clothes Himself with light,
With honor and majesty,
The mighty God, the Holy One,
Forever exalted, He.

Wednesday, April 18, 2007

SMITE THE ROCK

Moses smote the rock and
God reprimanded him;
He was only to have spoken -
It was a grievous sin.

Yet the Rock Himself was smitten
For sinners, we are told;
And we who once were broken
In Him are now made whole.

Wednesday, April 04, 2007

THERE WAS A STONE

There was a stone that covered the grave
Where the crucified Savior was lain,
After they mocked Him and shamed Him to scorn
And whipped Him and beat Him again.

After they put on His sweet the thorns
And the blood covered Him like the tide,
After they pierced Him with nails in His hands
And His feet and then hung Him to die.

There was a stone that said "Herein is death,
I have conquered the Author of Life,"
A stone that was strong as the forces of hell,
A stone that men thought would suffice.

There was a Rock that lay inside the grave
Behind the terrible stone,
A Rock that arose like the dawn when the sun
First appeared, and, oh, how it shone!

And the Rock rolled the stone away from the grave
And came forth like a lionly king,
And the grave, which was death, and hell, like the stone,
Would never more triumph again.

Is there a stone that covers the grave
Where your hopes and your dreams have been lain?
Let the Rock, which is Christ, rise within like the dawn
And you'll never know sorrow again.

For He'll roll the stone away from your life
And your heart will be wonderfully free;
For Jesus, the Rock, is the Author of Life
And together forever you'll be.