The Temptation of St. Anthony
-After a design by Félicien Rops-
The Cross, the Cross is tainted! O most Just,
Be merciful, and save me from this snare.
The Tempter lures me as I bend in prayer
Before the sacred symbol of our trust.
Yea, that most Holy of Holies feeds my lust,
The body of thy Christ; for, unaware,
Even as I kneel and pray, lo, She is there,
The temptress, she the wanton; and she hath thrust
The bruisèd body off, and all her own,
Shameless, she stretches on the cross, arms wide,
Limbs pendent, in libidinous mockery.
She draws mine eyes to her--Ah, sin unknown!
She smiles, she triumphs; but the Crucified
Falls off into the darkness with a cry.
poem by Arthur Symons
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The Iron Cross
THEY pass, with heavy eyes and hair,
Before the Christ upon the Cross,
The Nations, stricken with their loss,
And lifting faces of despair.
What is the prayer they pray to Him,
Christ Jesus on the Iron Cross?
The Christ, neglected, dark with moss,
Whose hands are pierced, whose face is grim.
Is it forgiveness for great sin
They plead before the Iron Cross?
Or for some gift of gold or dross?
Or battle lost, that they would win?
With eyes where hate and horror meet,
They pass before the Iron Cross,
The Cross, that ancient words emboss,
Where hangs the Christ with nail-pierced feet.
His hair is fallen on his face.
His head hangs sidewise from the Cross —
The Crucified, who knows all loss,
And had on Earth no resting place.
'O world of men,' he seems to say,
'Behold me on your Iron Cross!
To me why kneel and tell your loss?
Why kneel to me and weep and pray?
'Have I not taught you to forgive?
And bade you from my Iron Cross
Believe, and bear your grief and loss,
That after death you too may live?
'You have not followed at my call!
You keep me on this Iron Cross,
And pray me keep you from all loss,
And save and comfort you withal.—
'You ask for love, and hate the more! —
You keep me on this Iron Cross!—
Restore to me my greater loss,
The brotherhood of rich and poor.'
They pass, with weary eyes and hair,
Before the Christ upon the Cross —
The Nations, wailing of their loss,
And lifting faces of despair.
poem by Madison Julius Cawein
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The Cross
Two fallen twigs when kept across
Can form a cross;
Two blades of grass just put cris-cross
Becomes a cross.
Two fingers placed atop the next
Looks like a cross;
A wire-mesh has umpteen crosses,
Like stars the sky across.
The cross is symbol of Christians;
The cross is pride of all baptized;
The cross instills love of Jesus;
The cross is feared by all devils!
The cross is sign of faith in God;
The cross means sacrifice like Christ;
The cross reminds of victory over death;
Carry your cross and follow Christ.
The cross can save the worst sinner;
The cross is sign of after-life;
The cross means Christ is Son of God!
The cross leads always to heaven.
Copyright by Dr John Celes 10-30-2009
poem by John Celes
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The Holy Cross
O Holy Cross of Jesus Christ!
How must I come to Calvary?
– By giving up world’s pleasures first,
Carrying my own and follow Thee!
O Holy Cross that Christ had borne!
Take me to Heaven’s narrow gate;
Much strife my body does adorn,
My sufferings never abate!
O Holy Cross on which Christ died!
At times, in life I grow weary,
Although in God, I do abide;
With charm all lost, life seems dreary.
O Holy Cross that satan fears;
Then guide me in the way of light;
My stay on earth almost well nears;
Let Truth be always in my sight!
O Holy Cross: eternal sign;
In Jesus Christ, I trust my soul;
In Maker’s Feast, I wish to dine:
My only aim and earthly goal!
O Holy Cross that saves mankind;
Show me the dress of grace to don;
For only pure a heart and mind
Can see the face of God’s one Son!
poem by John Celes
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Jesus’ Cross
The Holy Cross beckons
To follow Jesus Christ;
The source of strength and joy
To souls, for Lord athirst!
The Holy Cross guides us
To walk upon His steps;
The Son of God had died
To save mankind from sins.
The Holy Cross reminds
To place our trust in God;
Jesus resurrected
To annul man from rod.
The Holy Cross signals
That life has crosses, woes;
Yet, we must tread fearless;
Engages God, our foes!
The Holy Cross goads us
To carry each one’s cross;
Our war with satan’s won,
By Jesus, without loss!
The Holy Cross renews
Our ties with Jesus Lord;
He will come in glory
To judge mankind by Word!
poem by John Celes
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Poem: Song to the Holy Cross
The cross of love:
The cross I love:
The cross I'd loved all life;
The wooden cross:
The holy cross:
The cross that bore man's strife.
The oaken cross:
The heavy cross:
The cross Jesus carried;
The cross on which
Christ Lord was nailed:
And bore man's sins indeed.
The cross of death:
The blood-stained cross:
The Savior, man, redeemed;
The cross of life's
Victory o'er death:
That souls on earth must heed.
poem by John Celes
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A Sheaf Of Snakes Used Heretofore To Be My Seal, The Crest Of Our Poor Family
ADOPTED in God's family and so
Our old coat lost, unto new arms I go.
The Cross—my seal at baptism—spread below
Does, by that form, into an Anchor grow.
Crosses grow Anchors ; bear, as thou shouldest do
Thy Cross, and that Cross grows an Anchor too.
But He that makes our Crosses Anchors thus,
Is Christ, who there is crucified for us.
Yet may I, with this, my first serpents hold ;
God gives new blessings, and yet leaves the old.
The serpent may, as wise, my pattern be ;
My poison, as he feeds on dust, that's me.
And, as he rounds the earth to murder sure,
My death he is, but on the Cross, my cure.
Crucify nature then, and then implore
All grace from Him, crucified there before ;
Then all is Cross, and that Cross Anchor grown ;
This seal's a catechism, not a seal alone.
Under that little seal great gifts I send,
Works, and prayers, pawns, and fruits of a friend.
And may that saint which rides in our great seal,
To you who bear his name,* great bounties deal !
poem by John Donne
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Look To The Cross
When they saw Christ's death upon the cross
Many counted it a tragic loss
But for the believers they counted it gain
Never to fear eternity ever again
Now as the Easter season quickly draws near
Do I look to the cross with joy or with fear?
Knowing that I have rejected the Lord
Or is He my savior and I'm following His word?
For many people it's jewelry and nothing more
Something pretty that's often wore.
Believers in Christ often wear the cross too
They wear it as a symbol of God's love so true
As believers in Christ we must see past the cross
Knowing Christ's death was not a tragic loss
The cross like the toomb now stands empty and forlorn
They're here to remind us in Christ we're reborn
In this Easter season when we look to the cross
Let us count it a joy and never a loss
03/28/04
Good Friday...
Behold the wood that went to make the cross
That bore the Saviour Lord, King Jesus Christ:
The holy cross at Calvary on which
Was hung, the Redeemer of mankind race!
That man was only Son of God in flesh,
Who suffered, shed His precious blood as price
For every sin of everyone on earth,
Of Adam and of Eve in lineage!
It wasn’t about the cross that Jesus bore;
It was about the One who hung on it!
He came to earth as Mary’s baby boy,
And gave to men the Good News, peace and joy!
The cross of wood assumed significance
When Jesus died upon it for our sins;
The sacrifice supreme was love of God
For creature man of clay whom He had made!
When Christ resurrected upon third day,
And won o’er death and satan for all times,
The holy cross became the weapon sole
That scares away the devils back to hell!
The cross became the symbol of Christians,
Reminding man of Salvation for all,
As Christ had paid the price on our behalf,
And turned to be the Truth, Light, Way to God!
The holy cross beckons each one of us
To take up each one’s cross and follow Christ;
It is the only hope for all mankind
As life on earth becomes so meaningful!
God’s Love was born on Christmas day as Christ!
Man’s sins nailed Him to death upon the cross!
Christ’s obeisance to Father freed mankind
If repentant, from Fiery Pit of hell!
Reflect on passions Christ had undergone,
Before He died upon the holy cross;
Follow His teachings and precepts for man;
Heaven is nigh for sinners penitent!
(22-04-11)
poem by John Celes
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Jerusalem, Jerusalem How Glad
Jerusalem, Jerusalem how glad
am I in prayer to have stood;
in thee blessed city at remains
of thy second temple’s walls.
Jerusalem, Jerusalem Oh how glad
am I sacred Via Dolorosa walked;
in remembrance atonement passed
stations of The Cross to have passed.
Jerusalem, Jerusalem Oh how glad
am I who before entering sacred;
Garden of Gethsemane to view aged
olive trees was cast down humbled.
For Jesus in agony fear here sweated
blood in prayer to heaven to father God;
when last among these olives he stood
thus rejoice all bowed before our Lord.
In pilgrimage to Calvary where our Lord
for my sins humanities Christ was Crucified;
where a group of witnesses Marys stood
bewailing in heart soul worship as we should.
This most Holy City Jerusalem City of our God
site of our Saviour’s Cross where our Saviour trod;
Almighty God this is thy most sacred Holy City still
at Messiah’s return here raise holy men at thy will.
The Via Dolorosa (Latin for Way of Grief or Way of Suffering) is the sacred two part street, within the Old City of Jerusalem; where Jesus walked carrying the cross, on the way to his crucifixion.
poem by Terence George Craddock
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I Stand Redeemed
I stand Redeemed, for through The Blood of The Lord I was bought,
It was on The Cross of Christ that the war for my soul was fought.
He did not come for the righteous, but to seek and save all the lost,
His search did not bring Him treasure; instead it came at great cost.
The Lamb of God for me was slain and crucified upon a bloody cross,
Christ died for me, so that through Eternity I would not suffer loss.
The Son of God came to save but was mocked, scoffed at and despised,
This was by His own, lead by those who were wise in their own eyes.
When they were asked about Jesus, Crucify him! Is what they screamed,
Little did they know that through Christ God was saving the Redeemed.
He was lead to The Cross to die by men who were spiritually deceived,
But there were also men like Nicodemus who saw Christ and believed.
It was for the sins of His people, that The Lord Jesus was stricken.
And then Isaiah says that He was assigned a grave with the wicked.
It wasn't only for Israel He died, for on The Cross He took my place,
And all who like Nicodemus, can be saved through His Wonderful Grace.
Just as The Lord will discard all the wicked of the earth like dross,
The sins of all who believe are covered by The Blood of The Cross.
For ages the prophets looked towards a day of redemption and dreamed,
Now two thousand years later it's at The Cross that I stand Redeemed.
(Copyright © 04/2003)
I Will Trust The Crucified
Though the world my choice deride,
I will trust the Crucified
Who for my redemption died.
I will trust the Crucified.
Oh! my soul, how great thy loss
But for His redeeming Cross!
All thy treasures count but dross,
All but His redeeming Cross.
I will trust Thy Love divine,
Which has made me ever Thine,
Which has made Thee ever mine!
I will trust Thy Love divine.
Let Thy Love still hold me fast,
And when earth for me is past,
When I reach my home at last,
Still Thy Love shall hold me fast.
All my joy and all my pride
Centre in the Crucified!
And whatever me betide,
I will trust the Crucified!
poem by Alfred Gibbs Campbell
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Martha' Crucified.
Martha had this thing
about the Crucified.
The image, the cross,
the stretched out arms.
The one in the convent
school along by the chapel
always caught her eye.
Stood there staring.
Get a move on Martha,
the nun said. Don't gape so.
Or the image in the dining
room stuck up on the wall
above the abbess's table.
Painted on she thought.
Not the same. Her mother
had the one her mother
gave her on her deathbed.
Old wood and plaster.
The plaster peeling from
the hands of the Crucified.
Martha gaped at Him,
at His wounds, at the wound
in His side where the spear
went in. Forgive them for
they know not. They did so,
the bastards, she muttered,
putting her fingers on the wound
in the side. She had an ebony
rosary in her skirt pocket. Black
Christ on the small ebony cross.
She fingered in her pocket, said
the prayers, felt the stiff body
on the cross. Sometimes she
took it out and kissed it; the ebony
body, the head, the arms. Once
she had a cross around her neck,
silver, small, given by some old
codger. She felt it warm between
her small breasts. Lost it when she
took it off to wash and it slipped
down the plughole in the convent bog.
She knew her mother had this wooden
crucifix on her chest of drawers.
A dark wood, a fleshy plastered Christ,
nails through and hands and feet.
She kissed the hands when her mother
was out, her lips touching the smooth
plaster, the eyes closed, the feel of
smoothness on flesh. Not the real
Christ of course. Least not yet.
She'd wait her turn. The real thing.
See what death and Heaven bring.
poem by Terry Collett
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Cross Reference
When we cry at the Cross of Christ, the angels weep for joy,
For they know what was sacrificed for every girl and boy...
Sons of Adam, Daughters of Eve, estranged by sin and shame,
This very day you can believe... Believe in Jesus' Name...
When we cry at the Cross of Christ, or kneel at Calvary,
Perhaps we'll even get baptised. God knows. Let's wait and see...
A billion Bibles aren't enough to feed the hungry souls
Who daily serve the King of Love and strive to meet His goals...
When we cry at the Cross of Christ, we witness from then on,
To shout, 'Hosanna in the highest! ' until the Devil's gone!
The Battle is the Lord's not ours, yet each is called by name.
His holy gifts and precious powers will prove we're not the same.
When we cry at the Cross of Christ, God helps us to repent,
We see God's Son so cheaply priced though He was Heaven sent.
Let wisdom guide us day by day and conscience night by night...
Let God's love teach us how to pray and help us do what's right...
Denis Martindale, copyright, June 2011.
Cross Reference is a programme on Revelation TV.
Once we become Christian believers, how are we to
go into all the world and present the Gospel of Jesus?
We can watch Revelation TV on Sky UK and
the website's Watch Now Internet connection.
Website: revelationtv-dot-com
poem by Denis Martindale
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Alas! And Did My Savior Bleed?
Alas! and did my Savior bleed
And did my Sovereign die?
Would He devote that sacred head
For such a worm as I?
Refrain
At the cross, at the cross where I first saw the light,
And the burden of my heart rolled away,
It was there by faith I received my sight,
And now I am happy all the day!
Thy body slain, sweet Jesus, Thine—
And bathed in its own blood—
While the firm mark of wrath divine,
His Soul in anguish stood.
Was it for crimes that I had done
He groaned upon the tree?
Amazing pity! grace unknown!
And love beyond degree!
Well might the sun in darkness hide
And shut his glories in,
When Christ, the mighty Maker died,
For man the creature’s sin.
Thus might I hide my blushing face
While His dear cross appears,
Dissolve my heart in thankfulness,
And melt my eyes to tears.
But drops of grief can ne’er repay
The debt of love I owe:
Here, Lord, I give my self away
’Tis all that I can do.
poem by Isaac Watts
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Power To Change
The power God used to save me, is the power that will change me,
The power of the Savior’s blood, and His grace He gives with love.
He is my friend and my Savior, my Sovereign God and my Creator,
And He, who saved my dark soul, can make a heart pure and whole.
The power of His awesome Grace, truly helps me as I seek His face,
To allow His Spirit to take control, as God changes this wicked soul.
The precious blood of God’s Son, has the power to change anyone,
Who comes to The Cross of Christ, to receive from God a New Life.
By Christ’s blood we were bought, so that change could be wrought,
In the body that belongs to Him, Christ who was crucified for our sin,
This body Christ called the Church; He did not leave here in the lurch,
But sent His Spirit, with His Light, to guide us safely out of the night.
The changes are the Father’s will, for this Church that Christ shall fill,
Filled with sinners from every nation, saved by The Lord’s Salvation,
Sanctified by the power of God, throughout the many lands we trod,
As a witness for those still lost, pointing them to our Savior’s Cross.
The changes shall continue in us, as in our Savior we place our trust,
To be all that we can be, through His blood, that flows from Calvary,
As His Grace gives us the power, for our needs, every day and hour,
Until that day, when by God’s Grace, we see our Savior face to face.
(Copyright ©06/2008)
The Cross
Cross was
Crying and asking;
For god
Oh! ! god
All are think me
And pray me...
But;
I am a god...? ?
OH god..! ! !
What is this? ?
Oh my god
Wear you are...? ?
Wear you are...? ?
Cross was asking
And praying;
The god was not
Given any answer of
Cross prayer...! ! ! !
The cross was
Crying to much and
Stop the prayer....! ! ! !
poem by Otteri Selvakumar
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Praise The Cross Of Jesus
Today I praise the cross of Jesus, where He died and bled for me.
For on that very cross of Jesus, His bloody death has set me free.
Christ came to die for all of us, upon that bloody cross of Calvary.
And upon Him I place my trust, from this day through all Eternity.
It was upon the cross of Christ, that He came to die so I could live.
Christ came to offer to us His life, the gift His Father chose to give.
Jesus came to be our sacrifice, so that all our sins God will forgive.
It is through the blood of Jesus Christ, that I can now eternally live.
Nothing was done on my part, but to accept Christ and to believe.
Christ even moved upon my heart, with The Spirit that I received.
New Life in me He would start, the life The Spirit would conceive.
And for me, a message to impart, for New Life you must believe.
You must believe in Jesus Christ, who came to save you and me.
He sent The Spirit into this strife, to give us eyes so we could see,
That Jesus came to give men life, so that they could live eternally.
This life is found in Jesus Christ, and is from the blood of Calvary.
Friend, there is only but one name, that men can lift up and raise,
For no common man can claim, any credit and seek men’s praise.
No man’s glory and or fame, can compare to The Ancient of Days.
And Jesus Christ is the only name, that by all men will be praised.
The Sign of the Holy Cross
The Holy Cross has been the sign
Encouraging me long;
The wonder of its sanctity
Can make a divine song.
When Jesus Christ died on the Cross
Redeeming mankind all;
My sufferings in life are naught,
So are my wounds of fall.
The Holy Cross beckons me on,
“Come, follow me all life.”
For that’s the way we reach Heaven
Forgetting all our strife!
poem by John Celes
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It's Amazing
It’s amazing, that a sinner like me, can talk to The God of Eternity,
When I walk with Him each day, through fellowship, to God I pray,
The Lord God entered into my life, through His Son, Jesus Christ,
Who died at Calvary for my sin, so I could share my life with Him.
It’s amazing, that for me He died, as on a cross He was crucified,
Becoming a curse on that tree, to save this soul and set me free,
Freeing me from sin and death, as He breathed in me new breath,
From the New Life available to men, who in Christ are Born Again.
It’s amazing, how God uses us, if we surrender to His Son Jesus,
Mere mortals only made of dust, when in Christ we place all trust,
Helping to proclaim His Word, until all upon this earth have heard,
Life saving Truth of the Cross, and how He came for sinners lost.
It’s amazing, how He fills us first, with spiritual hunger and a thirst,
For The Eternal Word of God, as He leads us with a staff and rod,
As Christ teaches us to abide, by The Holy Spirit who lives inside,
Helping all believers to impart, The Truth God puts within our heart.
It’s truly amazing, that God above, would send to us, by His Love,
His One and Only Begotten Son, as God’s Sacrifice for everyone,
And all we have to do is believe, The Gospel Message we receive,
And accept the love of Jesus Christ, to gain from Him Eternal Life.
(Copyright ©03/2008)
Three Hours of Darkness
When upon the Cross of Calvary, great darkness fell for all to see,
For three hours upon the land, a darkness many didn’t understand,
That time after Christ was crucified, the time He suffered and died,
A time filled with silence too, when Christ had died for me and you.
Darkness surrounded His death, as He approached His last breath,
Darkness on the land was unfurled, around The Light of The World.
Silence fell on the mocking crowd, whose evil shout was very loud,
As the light scattered the darkness, hearts again, showed hardness.
Upon Christ God placed on Him, the darkened iniquity of man’s sin,
Made to be sin for Adam’s race, upon that cross He took our place,
And God couldn’t look and see, that sin Christ bore for you and me,
So through that dark span of time, God the Father had turned aside.
As Christ was on that bloody stake, the Son, the Father did forsake,
He gave His spirit, at His last breath, to His Father, as He saw death,
The earth quaked, opening graves, and bodies of saints were raised,
And as that Temple Curtain torn, the Age of Grace by God was born.
A soldier with sword and rod, said “surely that was The Son of God.”
The Son of God for all sinners lost, was taken down from the cross,
Thinking of that cross, we must recall, the Lamb of God died for all,
He died upon a bloody stake, so His Resurrection we could partake.
(Copyright ©04/2009)