Father Forgive Them
Father, forgive (the Saviour said)
They know not what they do:
His heart was moved when thus he prayed
For me, my friends, and you.
He saw, that as the Jews abused
And crucified his flesh;
So he, by us, would be refused,
And crucified afresh.
Through love of sin, we long were prone
To act as Satan bid;
But now, with grief and shame we own,
We knew not what we did.
We knew not the desert of sin,
Nor whom we thus defied;
Nor where our guilty souls had been,
If Jesus had not died.
We knew not what a law we broke,
How holy, just and pure!
Nor what a God we durst provoke,
But thought ourselves secure.
But Jesus all our guilt foresaw,
And shed his precious blood
To satisfy the holy law,
And make our peace with God.
My sin, dear Saviour, made thee bleed,
Yet didst thou pray for me!
I knew not what I did, indeed,
When ignorant of thee.
poem by John Newton
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The Crucifixion of Christ
Composed, by Special Request, 18th June 1890
Then Pilate, the Roman Governor, took Jesus and scourged Him,
And the soldiers platted a crown of thorns, and thought it no sin
To put it on His head, while meekly Jesus stands;
They put on Him a purple robe, and smote Him with their hands.
Then Pilate went forth again, and said unto them,
Behold, I bring Him forth to you, but I cannot Him condemn,
And I would have you to remember I find no fault in Him,
And to treat Him too harshly 'twould be a sin.
But the rabble cried. Hail, King of the Jews, and crucify Him;
But Pilate saith unto them, I find in Him no sin;
Then Jesus came forth, looking dejected and wan,
And Pilate saith unto them, Behold the Man.
Then the Jews cried out, By our laws He ought to die,
Because He made Himself the Son of God the Most High;
And when Pilate heard that saying the Jews had made,
He saw they were dissatisfied, and he was the more afraid.
And to release Jesus Pilate did really intend,
But the Jews cried angrily, Pilate, thou art not Caesar's friend,
Remember, if thou let this vile impostor go,
It only goes to prove thou art Caesar's foe.
When Pilate heard that he felt very irate,
Then he brought Josus forth, and sat down in the judgment-seat,
In a place that is called the Pavement,
While the Blessed Saviour stood calm and content.
The presence of His enemies did not Him appal,
When Pilate asked of Him, before them all,
Whence art Thou, dost say from on High?
But Jesus, the Lamb of God, made no reply.
Then saith Pilate unto Him, Speakest Thou not unto me,
Remember, I have the power to crucify Thee;
But Jesus answered, Thou hast no power at all against me,
Except from above it were given to thee.
Then Pilate to the Jews loudly cried,
Take Him away to be crucified;
Then the soldiers took Jesus and led Him away,
And He, bearing His Cross, without dismay.
And they led Him to a place called Golgotha,
But the Saviour met His fate without any awe,
And there crucified Him with two others, one on either side,
And Jesus in the midst, whilst the Jews did Him deride.
Then Pilate tried to pacify the Jews, they felt so morose,
And he wrote a title, and put it on the Cross;
And the title he wrote did the Jews amuse,
The writing was, Jesus of Nazareth the King of the Jews.
This title read many of the Jews without any pity;
And the place where Jesus was crucified was nigh to the city;
And the title was written in Hebrew, and Greek, and Latin,
And while reading the title the Jews did laugh and grin.
While on the Cross the sun refused to shine,
And there was total darkness for a long time;
The reason was God wanted to hide His wounds from view,
And He kept the blessed sun from breaking through.
And to quench His thirst they gave Him vinegar and hyssop,
While the blood from His wounded brow copiously did drop,
Then He drank of it willingly, and bowed His head,
And in a few minutes the dear Saviour was dead.
Then Joseph of Arimathea sadly did grieve,
And he asked if Pilate would give him leave
To take the body of Jesus away,
And Pilate told him to remove it without delay.
Then Joseph took the body of Jesus away,
And wound it in linen, which was the Jewish custom of that day,
And embalmed his body with spices sweet,
Then laid it in a new sepulchre, as Joseph thought meet.
But death could not hold Him in the grave,
Because He died poor sinners' souls to save;
And God His Father took Him to Heaven on high;
And those that believe in Jesus shall never die.
Oh! think of the precious Blood our Saviour did loss,
That flowed from His wounds while on the Cross,
Especially the wound in His side, made with a spear,
And if you are a believer, you will drop a silent tear.
And if you are not a believer, try and believe,
And don't let the devil any longer you deceive,
Because the precious Blood that Jesus shed will free you from all sin,
Therefore, believe in the Saviour, and Heaven you shall enter in!
poem by William Topaz McGonagall
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In Jesus Name
In Jesus Name a mighty love
Was sent upon the Earth,
The Holy Spirit from above
Is meant to prove His worth
For Jesus Christ, God's Holy Son,
Was whipped and crucified
So that a perfect work was done
In which we can take pride.
In Christ we boast the whole day long,
Our Saviour and our Lord,
For in His faith each soul is strong,
Triumphant and assured.
Restored beyond our wildest dreams
And all our precious prayers,
We know life isn't what it seems
And that our Father cares...
Lord Jesus tells us, 'I LOVE YOU! '
That's such a wondrous phrase...
He bids us pray for others, too,
For purity and grace...
God bless our lives! God bless our lands!
God heal us day-by-day!
In Jesus Name we raise our hands
And pray and pray and pray...
poem by Denis Martindale
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The Making of a Man
When God made Adam long ago, He fashioned him supreme,
A billion thoughts that he might know his life was not a dream...
Thus no excuses could release that Man that God had made,
If by his sins he lost God's peace and through guilt was dismayed...
When God made Adam long ago, the angels gave God praise,
They did not treat Man as a foe, so new to Godly ways...
Yet Lucifer was mortified when Eve was introduced,
As God created from Man's side this female not refused...
When God made Adam long ago and Eve, his helpmate wife,
In whom new children were to grow when they made love and life,
Then Satan knew they would not die if children must exist...
And so he tricked them with a lie that they did not resist...
When God made Adam long ago, He knew him through and through,
He also let grace overflow, despite each sinful view...
Thus from God's Eden Man was sent and Adam's sons knew shame,
As through each day of sin they went, with each to bear the blame...
When God made Adam long ago, in time to see him fall,
He chose to send His Son below, a sacrifice for all...
God filled the Scriptures with this news, as prophets voiced His plans
Worldwide to Gentiles and to Jews dispersed across the lands...
When God made Adam long ago, He paused to count the cost!
For sin would wander to and fro and Hell would claim the lost!
Lord Jesus died, passed by Death's Door, with courage unsurpassed!
The making of a man, for sure... Our Saviour, first to last...
poem by Denis Martindale
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Tenth Sunday After Trinity
Why doth my Saviour weep
At sight of Sion's bowers?
Shows it not fair from yonder steep,
Her gorgeous crown of towers?
Mark well His holy pains:
'Tis not in pride or scorn,
That Israel's King with sorrow stains
His own triumphal morn.
It is not that His soul
Is wandering sadly on,
In thought how soon at death's dark goal
Their course will all be run,
Who now are shouting round
Hosanna to their chief;
No thought like this in Him is found,
This were a Conquerer's grief.
Or doth He feel the Cross
Already in His heart,
The pain, the shame, the scorn, the loss?
Feel e'en His God depart?
No: though He knew full well
The grief that then shall be -
The grief that angels cannot tell -
Our God in agony.
It is not thus He mourns;
Such might be martyr's tears,
When his last lingering look he turns
On human hopes and fears;
But hero ne'er or saint
The secret load might know,
With which His spirit waxeth faint;
His is a Saviour's woe.
"If thou had'st known, e'en thou,
At least in this thy day,
The message of thy peace! but now
'Tis passed for aye away:
Now foes shall trench thee round,
And lay thee even with earth,
And dash thy children to the ground,
Thy glory and thy mirth."
And doth the Saviour weep
Over His people's sin,
Because we will not let Him keep
The souls He died to win?
Ye hearts, that love the Lord,
If at this, sight ye burn,
See that in thought, in deed, in word,
Ye hate what made Him mourn.
poem by John Keble
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Joseph Made Known To His Brethren
When Joseph his brethren beheld,
Afflicted and trembling with fear;
His heart with compassion was filled,
From weeping he could not forbear.
Awhile his behavior was rough,
To bring their past sin to their mind;
But when they were humbled enough,
He hasted to show himself kind.
How little they thought it was he,
Whom they had ill treated and sold!
How great their confusion must be,
As soon as his name he had told!
I am Joseph, your brother, he said,
And still to my heart you are dear,
You sold me, and thought I was dead,
But God, for your sakes, sent me here.
Though greatly distressed before,
When charged with purloining the cup;
They now were confounded much more,
Not one of them durst to look up.
Can Joseph, whom we would have slain.
Forgive us the evil we did?
And will he our households maintain?
O this is a brother indeed!
Thus dragged by my conscience, I came,
And laden with guilt, to the Lord;
Surrounded with terror and shame,
Unable to utter a word.
At first he looked stern and revere,
What anguish then pierced my heart!
Expecting each moment to hear
The sentence, Thou cursed, depart!
But O! what surprise when he spoke,
While tenderness beamed in his face;
My heart then to pieces was broke,
O'erwhelmed and confounded by grace:
Poor sinner, I know thee full well,
By thee I was sold and was slain;
But I died to redeem thee from hell,
And raise thee in glory to reign.
I am Jesus, whom thou hast blasphemed,
And crucified often afresh;
But let me henceforth be esteemed,
Thy brother, thy bone, and thy flesh:
My pardon I freely bestow,
Thy wants I will fully supply;
I'll guide thee and guard thee below,
And soon will remove thee on high.
Go, publish to sinners around,
That they may be willing to come,
The mercy which now you have found,
And tell them that yet there is room.
O, sinners, the message obey!
No more vain excuses pretend;
But come, without farther delay,
To Jesus our brother and friend.
poem by John Newton
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The Dream
DEAR love, for nothing less than thee
Would I have broke this happy dream;
It was a theme
For reason, much too strong for fantasy.
Therefore thou waked'st me wisely; yet
My dream thou brokest not, but continued'st it.
Thou art so true that thoughts of thee suffice
To make dreams truths, and fables histories;
Enter these arms, for since thou thought'st it best,
Not to dream all my dream, let's act the rest.
As lightning, or a taper's light,
Thine eyes, and not thy noise waked me;
Yet I thought thee
—For thou lovest truth—an angel, at first sight;
But when I saw thou saw'st my heart,
And knew'st my thoughts beyond an angel's art,
When thou knew'st what I dreamt, when thou knew'st when
Excess of joy would wake me, and camest then,
I must confess, it could not choose but be
Profane, to think thee any thing but thee.
Coming and staying show'd thee, thee,
But rising makes me doubt, that now
Thou art not thou.
That love is weak where fear's as strong as he;
'Tis not all spirit, pure and brave,
If mixture it of fear, shame, honour have;
Perchance as torches, which must ready be,
Men light and put out, so thou deal'st with me;
Thou camest to kindle, go'st to come; then I
Will dream that hope again, but else would die.
poem by John Donne
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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The Woman Of Samaria
Jesus, to what didst thou submit
To save thy dear-bought flock from hell!
Like a pour trav'ller see him sit,
Athirst, and weary, by the well.
The woman who for water came,
What great events on small depend
Then learnt the glory of his name,
The Well of life, the sinner's Friend!
Taught from her birth to hate the Jews,
And filled with party-pride; at first
Her zeal induced her to refuse
Water, to quench the Saviour's thirst.
But soon she knew the gift of God,
And Jesus, whom she scorned before,
Unasked, that drink on her bestowed,
Which whoso tastes shall thirst no more.
His words her prejudice removed,
Her sin she felt, relief she found;
She saw and heard, believed and loved,
And ran to tell her neighbors round.
O come, this wondrous man behold!
The promised Saviour! this is he,
Whom ancient prophecies foretold,
Born, from our guilt to set us free.
Like her, in ignorance content,
I worshipped long I knew not what;
Like her, on other things intent,
I found him, when I sought him not.
He told me all that e'er I did,
And told me all was pardoned too;
And now, like her, as he has bid,
I live to point him out to you.
poem by John Newton
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Might Of The Messiah!
From Heaven's glory Jesus went
To save the world below
And fulfilling each commandment
Meant holy blood must flow...
As Jesus prayed that He be spared,
God's angel strengthened Him,
Such that He stood, no longer scared,
With faith filled to the brim!
The greatest story ever told
Was of the King of Kings,
As Jesus shed His blood like gold,
Behold how His back stings...
While still alive, His body torn,
A crown of thorns above,
They mocked the Saviour so forlorn,
With scorn instead of love...
Behold the Man! The crowd was cruel,
His kingship tattered now,
Such that their wisdom thought Him fool,
Not worthy of a bow...
Yet Jesus knew what lay ahead
And prophesied as much,
To say that He, when He was dead,
Would rise... and stay in touch...
The soldiers guarded in the gloom,
Where Jesus' shroud was laid,
They slept as God moved rock from tomb...
The news made folks afraid!
Disciples met the Saviour soon,
Thus Thomas praised the Lord,
When forced to sing another tune
That must not be ignored...
The might of the Messiah lives!
The Holy Spirit's gift
Is granted as the Lord forgives,
When true faith heals the rift...
That's why the Holy Bible's read
By billions here on Earth,
For what's in store and dead ahead
As Israel proves his worth...
The time shall come when Christ returns,
The whole wide world to own
And that's what every student learns
Who seeks what God has shown...
The world made new, no idle boast,
Yet Jesus, make things right!
Return with God's angelic host
With power and with might!
---
We can hear the word of the Lord on
Revelation TV on UK Sky Digital 581
as well as the WATCH NOW link on
the revelationtv-dot-com website...
poem by Denis Martindale
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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If You But Knew
If you but knew the price God paid, the sacrifice it cost
And saw how Jesus was betrayed, yet saved this world so lost...
If you had seen the face of Christ, when crucified for you,
Sins' horrors would be realised! What then, if you but knew?
If you but knew what was in store, for whom the Father cares,
The countless blessings and much more for those who pray the prayers,
For those who kneel beside their beds, like children close to sleep,
Perhaps you'd live like thoroughbreds, with trophies yet to keep.
If you but knew what had to be, the days, the weeks, the years,
For those with godly destiny, for whom each angel cheers,
The precious gifts that God bestows, in this life and the next,
You'd have the faith that grows and grows, that couldn't be perplexed.
If you but knew how Heaven felt, like visitors have told
And how God's holy flowers smelt, next to His streets of gold
And how the giant pearl shines out, more brilliant than the sun,
Insights would vanquish every doubt, you'd say, 'God's will be done! '
If you but knew, but you can't tell, they're hidden from your mind...
While there's a Heaven and a Hell, to such truths you're resigned.
But if you knew, as Christians must, you'd preach for all you're worth!
So holy truths could be discussed with everyone on Earth...
If they but knew the price God paid, the sacrifice it cost
And saw how Jesus was betrayed, yet saved this world so lost...
If they had seen the face of Christ, so He could save them, too,
Sins' horrors would be realised! What then, if they but knew?
Denis Martindale, copyright, June 2011.
The poem is about the Gospel channel,
Revelation TV on Sky 581, here in the UK,
Website: revelationtv-dot-com
poem by Denis Martindale
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Calvary
The Cross of Christ laid on the ground
And Jesus closed His eyes,
His beating heart the only sound
That He could realise...
They held Him down and nailed Him fast
As He screamed out in pain,
His blood ran cold, for now, at last,
He knew He would be slain...
The Cross of Christ was hoisted up,
With Him, the Romans' toy,
They offered Him the drug-filled cup,
Some mercy to employ...
But He refused to dull the ache,
The horror and the fear,
He knew the sacrifice to make
And kept it pure and clear...
The Cross of Christ was where He stayed,
No angels rescued Him,
They humbly watched as Christ obeyed
Before God's seraphim...
The Father stared from Heaven's Throne,
At Christ who wore a crown,
Forced there by Roman hearts of stone,
Now gambling for His gown...
The Cross of Christ was hid from sight
As God's Love looked away
And turned that sacred day to night
As He kept tears at bay...
One angel wept, then all joined in
And God wept tears as well.
This was the sacrifice for sin...
So we'd not go to Hell...
The Cross of Christ was where He died,
That place called Calvary,
That green hill far away supplied,
That haunts eternity...
That day when Mary's heartbeat stopped
In unison yet lived,
That time the Saviour's head had dropped,
With death His precious gift...
The Cross of Christ still bore His Blood,
Though Christ was in His tomb
And God observed that holy flood,
With hatred and with gloom...
Yet Christ had prayed, forgive them all,
They know not what they do...
So God sent preachers like Saint Paul,
Because Christ died... for you...
Denis Martindale, copyright, November 2010.
poem by Denis Martindale
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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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God Rest You Merry, Gentlemen
God rest you merry, gentlemen,
Let nothing you dismay,
For Jesus Christ our Saviour
Was born upon this day,
To save us all from Satan's power
When we were gone astray.
O tidings of comfort and joy,
For Jesus Christ our Saviour was born on Christmas day.
In Bethlehem in Jury
This blessed babe was born,
And laid within a manger
Upon this blessed morn;
The which his mother Mary
Nothing did take in scorn.
O tidings of comfort and joy,
Jesus Christ our Saviour was born on Christmas day.
From God our Heavenly Father
A blessed Angel came,
And unto certain Shepherds
Brought tidings of the same,
How that in Bethlehem was born
The Son of God by name.
O tidings of comfort and joy,
Jesus Christ our Saviour was born on Christmas day.
Fear not, then said the Angel,
Let nothing you affright,
This day is born a Saviour
Of virtue, power and might;
So frequently to vanquish all
The friends of Satan quite.
O tidings of comfort and joy,
Jesus Christ our Saviour was born on Christmas day.
The Shepherds at those tidings
Rejoiced much in mind,
And left their flocks a feeding
In tempest, storm and wind,
And went to Bethlehem straightway,
This blessed babe to find.
O tidings of comfort and joy,
Jesus Christ our Saviour was born on Christmas day.
But when to Bethlehem they came,
Whereas this infant lay,
They found him in a manger
Where oxen feed on hay,
His mother Mary kneeling
Unto the Lord did pray.
O tidings of comfort and joy,
Jesus Christ our Saviour was born on Christmas day.
Now to the Lord sing praises,
All you within this place,
And with true love and brotherhood
Each other now embrace;
This holy tide of Christmas
All others doth deface.
O tidings of comfort and joy,
Jesus Christ our Saviour was born on Christmas day.
poem by Anonymous Americas
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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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
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Advice In The Wilderness
I dreamt I saw Christ walking
Within the wilderness...
And with Him, Satan talking,
To curse and not to bless...
I watched the Devil laughing
At Jesus all alone,
And as the Lord was starving,
Advised, 'Make bread from stone...'
Lord Jesus quoted what He'd learnt,
That Man needs more than bread,
That comes to us from ovens burnt,
So that each one is fed...
Each word of God can feed the soul,
As if a child within,
So that it gains some self-control
And faith that won't give in...
Then Satan promised all the lands,
The kingdoms he possessed,
If Jesus merely raised His hands
In worship, He'd be blessed!
Lord Jesus knew His Father's will,
The Lamb of God was He!
The Saviour who would climb that hill
That men called Calvary!
The Devil merely cleared his throat,
As he continued on
And of the Scriptures he took note,
'One life, then it is gone...
If you fell from a mountain top,
God would protect His Son...'
But Jesus Christ refused to drop,
To test what could be done...
To Calvary, Christ went to die...
A crown of thorns to wear...
To suffer shame for you and I,
Man's shameful sins to bear...
God's great advice He listened to,
By faith, He bled and bled...
You see, He knew God's Word was true...
Enough to raise the dead!
poem by Denis Martindale
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Ex Ore Infantium
Little Jesus, wast Thou shy
Once, and just so small as I?
And what did it feel like to be
Out of Heaven, and just like me?
Didst Thou sometimes think of THERE,
And ask where all the angels were?
I should think that I would cry
For my house all made of sky;
I would look about the air,
And wonder where my angels were;
And at waking 'twould distress me--
Not an angel there to dress me!
Hadst Thou ever any toys,
Like us little girls and boys?
And didst Thou play in Heaven with all
The angels that were not too tall,
With stars for marbles? Did the things
Play Can you see me? through their wings?
And did Thy Mother let Thee spoil
Thy robes, with playing on OUR soil?
How nice to have them always new
In Heaven, because 'twas quite clean blue!
Didst Thou kneel at night to pray,
And didst Thou join Thy hands, this way?
And did they tire sometimes, being young,
And make the prayer seem very long?
And dost Thou like it best, that we
Should join our hands to pray to Thee?
I used to think, before I knew,
The prayer not said unless we do.
And did Thy Mother at the night
Kiss Thee, and fold the clothes in right?
And didst Thou feel quite good in bed,
Kissed, and sweet, and thy prayers said?
Thou canst not have forgotten all
That it feels like to be small:
And Thou know'st I cannot pray
To Thee in my father's way--
When Thou wast so little, say,
Couldst Thou talk Thy Father's way?--
So, a little Child, come down
And hear a child's tongue like Thy own;
Take me by the hand and walk,
And listen to my baby-talk.
To Thy Father show my prayer
(He will look, Thou art so fair),
And say: 'O Father, I, Thy Son,
Bring the prayer of a little one.'
And He will smile, that children's tongue
Has not changed since Thou wast young!
poem by Francis Thompson
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Messiah: The First Judgement
++++++++++++++++++ INTRODUCTION +++++++++++++++++
++++++++++++++ Who of this Earth is higher ++++++++++++++
++++++++++++++ Than Jesus the Messiah! ? ++++++++++++++
+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++ ++++++++++++++++++
When God breathed life in Adam's form, He poured His Spirit there
And in his life's blood, red and warm, He made Man self-aware.
Thus Adam knew what sin had done when from God's tree he ate,
Yet one day God sent us His Son to face an awful fate!
When Mary knew the Lord blessed her, she said, 'May it be so! '
When Joseph at first addressed her, his doubts began to grow...
Within a dream, the Lord revealed that he must act with faith.
Reluctantly he had to yield and so God's Son was safe...
In Bethlehem, where Christ was born, some shepherds came to call.
For to His manger they were drawn and at His feet to fall.
In time, the child became a man, a preacher to the lost.
In time, to die, to serve God's plan, but first to count the cost!
The Teacher left Gethsemane - He knew the Father's will.
He bled His way to Calvary and climbed Golgotha's hill...
And there He agonised and died, Jesus of Nazareth!
And though the Lord was crucified, God raised His Son from death!
Behold the Saviour! Praise the Lord! Believe and be baptised!
Accept God's Word and be assured! Hosanna in the highest!
The Rapture waits its godly time - so preach God's Word anew!
Salvation's truths are quite sublime: Christ died for me and you!
poem by Denis Martindale
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Cross Of Christ
The jeering crowd like jackals stood,
To see what must be done.
Though once they thought this man was good,
They didn't see God's Son.
They called Him Rabbi, Teacher, Lord,
Yet now He was Rome's slave.
So all His claims were now ignored,
For who was He to save?
The nails were driven deep inside...
More drops of blood soon fell...
Once lifted, hoisted, crucified,
His life was just like Hell.
Torment and torture lay ahead.
Excruciating pain.
His scourged back stung and bled and bled
As briars bruised His brain.
His mother wept each passing hour.
'Dear God, have pity, please! '
And yet there came no sign of power,
No rescue, no release.
The soldiers gambled for His clothes.
One wash and they'd be clean.
His life and death the Father chose,
Thus stays the Nazarene.
'It is finished! ' the Saviour screamed
With one great final sigh...
Though not defeated as it seemed,
For Jesus had to die.
To think, the Holy Spirit shares
Forgiveness in His Name!
No other man on Earth compares.
Not one could do the same.
For all have sinned and gone astray
Like sheep in darkest night.
But blessed are they that find the Way
And walk within His light...
He died for you. He died for me.
God's Son fulfilled God's plan.
From Calvary came clemency!
Behold the Son of Man!
Behold the blood! Behold the Lord!
For this man was the Christ!
The Lamb of God! His heart outpoured!
The Saviour sacrificed!
Oh, who can count the callous sins
That Jesus suffered for?
Behold the precious Prince of Peace,
The King of Love and more!
poem by Denis Martindale
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Jesus Died For Me
JESUS DIED FOR ME
WRITER HANK WILLIAMS
When (C)everything goes wrong And it (F)seems all hope is (C)gone I remember how my Savior (G7)died He (C)died there on the cross So this (F)world would not be (C)lost Jesus died for (G7)me long a(C)go (CHORUS) Jesus died for me long ago On a hillside far a(G7)way He was (C)tortured and slain God (F)bless His Holy (C)name Jesus died for (G7)me long a(C)go What pain He suffered there The (F)Holy One so (C)dear So that you and I could (G7)live I'll (C)try to repay For His (F)sufferin' on that (C)day Jesus died for (G7)me long a(C)go CHORUS As He hung there all alone His (F)life's blood almost (C)gone He never stopped prayin' for (G7)me So I'll (C)follow all the way And (F)live with Him some(C)day Jesus died for (G7)me long a(C)go CHORUS Jesus Died For Me
song performed by by Hank Williams
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Close To Jesus
Close to Jesus, so few have been, yet with their stories told,
Through these we see the Nazarene, the Saviour to behold...
From birth to death and far beyond, God's Son has proved His worth
And thus, to Him, we each respond, while we live on this Earth...
Of those we know, some prophets shared what they perceived of Christ,
At whom the disbelievers stared the day He was baptised...
Yet John the Baptist spoke the truth, 'Behold the Lamb of God! '
Though just to them, He seemed a youth, for these, He shed His Blood!
To think, He healed the sick He met and those then brought to Him,
Forgiving sins that caused regret, for guilt can make us grim...
The multitudes were like lost sheep, each one had lost his way,
When God's commands they wouldn't keep, He taught them how to pray.
But while His fame was widely known, disciples came and went,
Until Saint Peter stood alone and called Him Heaven-sent...
'You are the Christ, God's promised Son! No other can we seek!
You speak the words, then deeds are done that make You quite unique! '
Though Peter knew the truth full well, the Saviour he denied!
Three times he lied and wouldn't tell, with Christ soon crucified...
Through John and Mary's eyes we see the Saviour lifted high,
The Lamb of God met Calvary... His destiny... to die...
It didn't end with mortal death, as one would first assume
Behold Jesus of Nazareth, not bound by any tomb!
God raised Him up from Death's embrace, from Hell to Heaven's Throne!
Through Him, receive God's perfect grace... Believe in Christ alone.
His Blood can cleanse and make us whole, for He makes all things new!
Let Jesus in to save your soul... Let Him come close to you...
Denis Martindale, copyright, June 2011.
The poem is based on the Gospel teachings
in the Close To Jesus DVD dramatisations
the Amazon shopping website found for me.
poem by Denis Martindale
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Hymn XXIX: Come, Ye Weary Sinners, Come
Come, ye weary sinners, come,
All who groan beneath your load,
Jesus calls his wanderers home,
Hasten to your pardoning God!
Come, ye guilty spirits oppressed,
Answer to the Saviour's call,
'Come, and I will give you rest,
Come, and I will save you all.'
Jesus, full of truth and love,
We thy kindest word obey;
Faithful let thy mercies prove,
Take our load of guilt away;
Fain we would on thee rely,
Cast on thee our every care,
To thine arms of mercy fly,
Find our lasting quiet there.
Burdened with a world of grief,
Burdened with our sinful load,
Burdened with this unbelief,
Burdened with the wrath of God;
Lo! we come to thee for ease,
True and gracious as thou art,
Now our groaning souls release,
Write forgiveness on our heart.
poem by Charles Wesley
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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