The True Aaron
See Aaron, God's anointed priest,
Within the veil appear;
In robes of mystic meaning dressed,
Presenting Israel's prayer.
The plate of gold which crowns his brows,
His holiness describes;
His breast displays, in shining rows,
The names of all the tribes.
With the atoning blood he stands,
Before the mercy-seat;
And clouds of incense from his hands,
Arise with odor sweet.
Urim and Thummim near his heart,
In rich engravings worn;
The sacred light of truth impart,
To teach and to adorn.
Through him the eye of faith descries,
A greater Priest than he;
Thus Jesus pleads above the skies,
For you, my friends, and me.
He bears the names of all his saints,
Deep on his heart engraved;
Attentive to the state and wants
Of all his love has saved.
In him a holiness complete,
Light and perfections shine;
And wisdom, grace, and glory meet;
A Saviour all divine.
The blood, which as a Priest he bears
For sinners, is his own
The incense of his prayers and tears
Perfume the holy throne.
In him my weary soul has rest,
Though I am weak and vile
I read my name upon his breast,
And see the Father smile.
poem by John Newton
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Aaron
Holiness on the head,
Light and perfection on the breast,
Harmonious bells below, raising the dead
To led them unto life and rest.
Thus are true Aarons dressed.
Profaneness in my head,
Defects and darkness in my breast,
A noise of passions ringing me for dead
Unto a place where is no rest.
Poor priest thus am I dressed.
Only another head
I have, another heart and breast,
another music, making live not dead,
without whom I could have no rest:
In him I am well dressed.
Christ is my only head,
My alone only heart and breast,
My only music, striking me even dead;
That to the old man I may rest,
And be in him new dressed.
So holy in my head,
Perfect and light in my dear breast,
My doctrine tuned by Christ, (who is not dead,
But lives in me while I do rest)
Come people; Aaron's dressed.
poem by George Herbert
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Hymn 149
The offices of Christ. From several scriptures.
Join all the names of love and power
That ever men or angels bore,
All are too mean to speak his worth,
Or set lmmannel's glory forth.
But O what condescending ways
He takes to teach his heav'nly grace
My eyes with joy and wonder see
What forms of love he bears for me.
[The Angel of the cov'nant stands
With his commission in his hands,
Sent from his Father's milder throne,
To make the great salvation known.]
[Great Prophet! let me bless thy name;
By thee the joyful tidings came
Of wrath appeased, of sins forgiv'n,
Of hell subdued, and peace with heav'n.]
[My bright Example and my Guide,
I would be walking near thy side;
O let me never run astray,
Nor follow the forbidden way!]
[I love my Shepherd, he shall keep
My wand'ring soul among his sheep;
He feeds his flock, he calls their names,
And in his bosom bears the lambs.]
[My Surety undertakes my cause,
Answering his Father's broken laws:
Behold my soul at freedom set,
My Surety paid the dreadful debt.]
[Jesus, my great High Priest, has died;
I seek no sacrifice beside;
His blood did once for all atone,
And now it pleads before the throne.]
[My Advocate appears on high,
The Father lays his thunder by;
Not all that earth or hell can say
Shall turn my Father's heart away.]
[My Lord, my Conqueror, and my King!
Thy sceptre and thy sword I sing;
Thine is the vict'ry, and I sit
A joyful subject at thy feet.]
[Aspire, my soul, to glorious deeds,
The Captain of salvation leads;
March on, nor fear to win the day,
Though death and hell obstruct the way.]
[Should death, and hell, and powers unknown,
Put all their forms of mischief on,
I shall be safe; for Christ displays
Salvation in more sovereign ways.]
poem by Isaac Watts
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Psalm 99 part 2
A holy God worshiped with reverence.
Exalt the Lord our God,
And worship at his feet;
His nature is all holiness,
And mercy is his seat.
When Isr'el was his church,
When Aaron was his priest,
When Moses cried, when Samuel prayed,
He gave his people rest.
Oft he forgave their sins,
Nor would destroy their race;
And oft he made his vengeance known,
When they abused his grace.
Exalt the Lord our God,
Whose grace is still the same;
Still he's a God of holiness,
And jealous for his name.
poem by Isaac Watts
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Hymn 150
The offices of Christ. From several scriptures.
Join all the glorious names
Of wisdom, love, and power,
That ever mortals knew,
That angels ever bore:
All are too mean to speak his worth,
Too mean to set my Savior forth.
But O what gentle terms,
What condescending ways,
Doth our Redeemer use
To teach his heav'nly grace!
Mine eyes with joy and wonder see
What forms of love he bears for me.
[Arrayed in mortal flesh,
He like an angel stands,
And holds the promises
And pardons in his hands;
Commissioned from his Father's throne
To make his grace to mortals known.]
[Great Prophet of my God,
My tongue would bless thy name;
By thee the joyful news
Of our salvation came:
The joyful news of sins forgiv'n,
Of hell subdued, and peace with heav'n.]
[Be thou my Counsellor,
My Pattern, and my Guide;
And through this desert land
Still keep me near thy side:
O let my feet ne'er run astray,
Nor rove, nor seek the crooked way.]
[I love my Shepherd's voice,
His watchful eyes shall keep
My wand'ring soul among
The thousands of his sheep:
He feeds his flock, he calls their names,
His bosom bears the tender lambs.]
[To this dear Surety's hand
Will I commit my cause;
He answers and fulfils
His Father's broken laws:
Behold my soul at freedom set!
My Surety paid the dreadful debt.]
[Jesus, my great High Priest,
Offered his blood, and died;
My guilty conscience seeks
No sacrifice beside:
His powerful blood did once atone,
And now it pleads before the throne.]
[My Advocate appears
For my defence on high;
The Father bows his ears,
And lays his thunder by:
Not all that hell or sin can say
Shall turn his heart, his love away.]
[My dear Almighty Lord,
My Conqueror and my King!
Thy sceptre and thy sword,
Thy reigning grace I sing:
Thine is the power; behold, I sit
In willing bonds before thy feet.]
[Now let my soul arise,
And tread the tempter down;
My Captain leads me forth
To conquest and a crown:
A feeble saint shall win the day,
Though death and hell obstruct the way.]
Should all the hosts of death,
And powers of hell unknown,
Put their most dreadful forms
Of rage and mischief on,
I shall be safe, for Christ displays
Superior power, and guardian grace.
poem by Isaac Watts
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Garden Of Eden
In the Garden of Eden I stand in the presence of the great IAM the power of the dying lamb. The fountain of his disdain shall forever loose its guilty stain. For the great I AM wore a thorn for a crown and as his blood mingled down. Love so great that His glory flows as His favor of Grace it bestows to every vessel below. Fellowship is sweet as under His altar we lie and at His feet the Mercy seat of purest gold the ark of holiness do we behold. Washed forever from Immanuel veins by His blood supply Abba Father do: we cry. Let me embrace the face of the Rock of Grace the presence of Yahweh cover all my disgrace. In His Righteous clothed he's pleadings for my soul the Intercessor of all our woes how humbling the infinite mercy, the Lord Jesus, the Eternal High Priest shows
poem by Vanita Allgood
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Psalm 110
You sit at the right hand of the Father
You are clothed in majesty
The train of your robe fills the temple
Our High priest forever you shall be
You dwell in the beauty of Holiness
You are clothed in magnificent light
You stand upon grace and mercy
And your throne is an incredible sight
All men shall fall down before you
And every tongue on earth shall confess
That you are Lord to the glory of God
And we shall dwell in your Holiness
You are Commander of the heavenly hosts
And God the Father is your shield
And every king that comes against you
Is destroyed on the battle-field
poem by Frank McEleny
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The Throne Of God
You sit at the right hand of the Father
You are clothed in majesty
The train of your robe fills the temple
Our High priest forever you shall be
You dwell in the beauty of Holiness
You are clothed in magnificent light
You stand upon grace and mercy
And your throne is an incredible sight
All men shall fall down before you
And every tongue on earth shall confess
That you are Lord to the glory of God
And we shall dwell in your Holiness
You are Commander of the heavenly hosts
And God the Father is your shield
And every king that comes against you
Is destroyed on the battle-field
poem by Frank McEleny
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Life of a Roman Catholic Priest
A priest is nearest Christ;
A priest is Christ at times;
A priest is almost Christ;
A priest is most divine.
A priest is God’s shepherd;
A priest must tend to flock;
A priest must be like ‘rock’;
A priest should ne’er defrock.
A priest communes with God;
A priest draws hope from Lord;
A priest shows love of Christ;
A priest carries His Cross!
A priest is tempted too;
A priest has falls in life;
A priest falters also;
A priest has strength from Christ.
A priestly job is tough;
A priest’s life can turn rough;
A priest has strife enough,
But has to smile and laugh!
A priest helps harvest souls;
A priest has many roles;
A priest has but one goal –
To drink from Christ’s own bowl!
Pray that more priests should come;
May priests curb their freedom;
May priest usher Kingdom;
A life for Christ’s welcome.
Fondly dedicated to Rev. Fr. Xavier Claudius,
Beloved Parish priest, ‘Holy Family Church, Perundurai
Copyright by Dr John Celes 25-7-2010
poem by John Celes
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Psalm 97 part 3
Grace and glory.
Th' Almighty reigns exalted high
O'er all the earth, o'er all the sky;
Though clouds and darkness veil his feet,
His dwelling is the mercy-seat.
O ye that love his holy name,
Hate every work of sin and shame;
He guards the souls of all his friends,
And from the snares of hell defends.
Immortal light and joys unknown
Are for the saints in darkness sown
Those glorious seeds shall spring and rise,
And the bright harvest bless our eyes.
Rejoice, ye righteous, and record
The sacred honors of the Lord:
None but the soul that feels his grace
Can triumph in his holiness.
poem by Isaac Watts
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Of Heaven
Heaven is a place, also a state,
It doth all things excel,
No man can fully it relate,
Nor of its glory tell.
God made it for his residence,
To sit on as a throne,
Which shows to us the excellence
Whereby it may be known.
Doubtless the fabric that was built
For this so great a king,
Must needs surprise thee, if thou wilt
But duly mind the thing.
If all that build do build to suit
The glory of their state,
What orator, though most acute,
Can fully heaven relate?
If palaces that princes build,
Which yet are made of clay,
Do so amaze when much beheld,
Of heaven what shall we say?
It is the high and holy place;
No moth can there annoy,
Nor make to fade that goodly grace
That saints shall there enjoy.
Mansions for glory and for rest
Do there prepared stand;
Buildings eternal for the blest
Are there provided, and
The glory and the comeliness
By deepest thought none may
With heart or mouth fully express,
Nor can before that day.
These heav'ns we see, be as a scroll,
Or garment folded up,
Before they do together roll,
And we call'd in to sup.
There with the king, the bridegroom, and
By him are led into
His palace chambers, there to stand
With his prospect to our view.
And taste and smell, and be inflam'd,
And ravished to see
The buildings he hath for us fram'd,
How full of heaven they be.
Its state also is marvellous,
For beauty to behold;
All goodness there is plenteous,
And better far than gold.
Adorn'd with grace and righteousness,
While fragrant scents of love
O'erflow with everlasting bliss,
All that do dwell above.
The heavenly majesty, whose face
Doth far exceed the sun,
Will there cast forth its rays of grace
After this world is done.
Which rays and beams will so possess
All things that there shall dwell,
With so much glory, light, and bliss,
That none can think or tell.
That wisdom which doth order all
Shall there be fully shown;
That strength that bears the world there shall
By every one be known.
That holiness and sanctity
Which doth all thought surpass,
Shall there in present purity
Outshine the crystal glass.
The beauty and the comeliness
Of this Almighty shall
Make amiable with lasting bliss
Those he thereto shall call.
The presence of this God will be
Eternal life in all,
And health and gladness, while we see
Thy face, O immortal!
Here will the Lord make clear and plain
How sweetly did agree
His attributes, when Christ was slain
Our Saviour to be.
How wisdom did find out the way,
How strength did make him stand,
How holiness did bear the sway,
And answer just demand.
How all these attributes did bend
Themselves to work our life,
Through the Christ whom God did send
To save us by his might.
All this will sparkle in our eye
Within the holy place,
And greatly raise our melody,
And flow our hearts with grace.
The largest thought that can arise
Within the widest heart
Shall then be filled with surprize,
And pleas'd in every part.
All mysteries shall here be seen,
And every knot, unty'd;
Electing love, that hid hath been,
Shall shine on every side.
The God of glory here will be
The life of every one;
Whose goodly attributes shall we
Possess them as our own.
By wisdom we all things shall know,
By light all things shall see,
By strength, too, all things we shall do,
When we in glory be.
The Holy Lamb of God, also,
Who for our sakes did die,
The holy ones of God shall know,
And that most perfectly.
Those small and short discoveries
That we have of him here,
Will there be seen with open eyes,
In visions full and clear.
Those many thousand acts of grace
That here we feel and find,
Shall there be real with open face
Upon his heart most kind.
There he will show us how he was
Our prophet, priest, and king;
And how he did maintain our cause,
And us to glory bring.
There we shall see how he was touch'd
With all our grief and pain
(As in his word he hath avouch'd),
When we with him shall reign;
He'll show us, also, how he did
Maintain our faith and love,
And why his face sometimes he hid
From us, who are his dove;
These tempting times that here we have,
We there shall see were good;
Also that hidden strength he gave,
The purchase of his blood.
That he should stand for us before
His Father, thus we read.
But then shall see, and shall adore
Him for his gracious deed.
Though we are vile, he without shame
Before the angels all
Lays out his strength, his worth, and name,
For us, who are in thrall.
This is he who was mock'd and beat,
Spit on, and crown'd with thorns;
Who for us had a bloody sweat,
Whose heart was broke with scorns.
'Tis he who stands so much our friend,
As shortly we shall see,
With open face, world without end,
And in his presence be.
That head that once was crown'd with thorns,
Shall now with glory shine;
That heart that broken was with scorns,
Shall flow with life divine;
That man that here met with disgrace,
We there shall see so bright;
That angels can't behold his face
For its exceeding light.
What gladness will possess our heart
When we shall see these things!
What light and life, in every part,
Will rise like lasting springs!
O blessed face and holy grace,
When shall we see this day?
Lord, fetch us to this goodly place
We humbly do thee pray.
Next to this Lamb we shall behold
All saints, both more and less,
With whit'ned robes in glory roll'd,
'Cause him they did confess.
Each walking in his righteousness
With shining crowns of gold,
Triumphing still in heav'nly bliss,
Amazing to behold.
Each person for his majesty
Doth represent a king;
Yea, angel-like for dignity,
And seraphims that sing.
Each motion of their mind, and so
Each twinkling of their eye;
Each word they speak, and step they go,
It is in purity.
Immortal are they every one,
Wrapt up in health and light,
Mortality from them is gone,
Weakness is turn'd to might.
The stars are not so clear as they,
They equalize the sun;
Their glory shines to perfect day,
Which day will ne'er be done.
No sorrow can them now annoy,
Nor weakness, grief or pain;
No faintness can abate their joy,
They now in life do reign.
They shall not there, as here, be vex'd
With Satan, men, or sin;
Nor with their wicked hearts perplex'd,
The heavens have cop'd[8] them in.
Thus, as they shine in their estate,
So, too, in their degree;
Which is most goodly to relate,
And ravishing to see.
The majesty whom they adore,
Doth them in wisdom place
Upon the thrones, and that before
The angels, to their grace.
The saints of the Old Testament,
Full right to their degree;
Likewise the New, in excellent
Magnificency be.
Each one his badge of glory wears,
According to his place;
According as was his affairs
Here, in the time of grace.
Some on the right hand of the Lamb,
Likewise some on the left,
With robes and golden chains do stand
Most grave, most sage, and deft.[9]
The martyr here is known from him
Who peaceably did die,
Both by the place he sitteth in,
And by his dignity.
Each father, saint, and prophet shall,
According to his worth,
Enjoy the honour of his call,
And plainly hold it forth.
Those bodies which sometimes were torn,
And bones that broken were
For God's word; he doth now adorn
With health and glory fair.
Thus, when in heav'nly harmony
These blessed saints appear,
Adorn'd with grace and majesty,
What gladness will be there!
The light, and grace, and countenance,
The least of these shall have,
Will so with terror them advance,
And make their face so grave,
That at them all the world will shake,
When they lift up their head;
Princes and kings will at them quake,
And fall before them dead.
This shall we see, thus shall we be,
O would the day were come,
Lord Jesus take us up to thee,
To this desired home.
Angels also we shall behold,
When we on high ascend,
Each shining like to men of gold,
And on the Lord attend.
These goodly creatures, full of grace,
Shall stand about the throne,
Each one with lightning in his face,
And shall to us be known.
These cherubims with one accord
Shall cry continually,
Ah, holy, holy, holy, Lord,
And heavenly majesty.
These will us in their arms embrace,
And welcome us to rest,
And joy to see us clad with grace,
And of the heavens possess'd.
This we shall hear, this we shall see,
While raptures take us up,
When we with blessed Jesus be,
And at his table sup.
Oh shining angels! what, must we
With you lift up our voice?
We must; and with you ever be,
And with you must rejoice.
Our friends that lived godly here,
Shall there be found again;
The wife, the child, and father dear,
With others of our train.
Each one down to the foot in white,
Fill'd to the brim with grace,
Walking among the saints in light,
With glad and joyful face.
Those God did use us to convert,
We there with joy shall meet,
And jointly shall, with all our heart,
In life each other greet.
A crown to them we then shall be,
A glory and a joy;
And that before the Lord, when he
The world comes to destroy.
This is the place, this is the state,
Of all that fear the Lord;
Which men nor angels may relate
With tongue, or pen, or word.
No night is here, for to eclipse
Its spangling rays so bright;
Nor doubt, nor fear to shut the lips,
Of those within this light.
The strings of music here are tun'd
For heavenly harmony,
And every spirit here perfum'd
With perfect sanctity.
Here runs the crystal streams of life,
Quite through all our veins.
And here by love we do unite
With glory's golden chains.
Now that which sweet'neth all will be
The lasting of this state;
This heightens all we hear or see
To a transcendant rate.
For should the saints enjoy all this
But for a certain time,
O, how would they their mark then miss,
And at this thing repine?
Yea, 'tis not possible that they
Who then shall dwell on high,
Should be content, unless they may
Dwell there eternally.
A thought of parting with this place
Would bitter all their sweet,
And darkness put upon the face
Of all they there do meet.
But far from this the saints shall be,
Their portion is the Lord,
Whose face for ever they shall see,
As saith the holy word.
And that with everlasting peace,
Joy, and felicity,
From this time forth they shall increase
Unto eternity.
poem by John Bunyan
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Hymn 145
Christ and Aaron.
Heb. 7; 9.
Jesus, in thee our eyes behold
A thousand glories more,
Than the rich gems and polished gold
The sons of Aaron wore.
They first their own burnt-offerings brought,
To purge themselves from sin;
Thy life was pure without a spot,
And all thy nature clean.
[Fresh blood as constant as the day
Was on their altar spilt;
But thy one offering takes away
For ever all our guilt.]
[Their priesthood ran through several hands,
For mortal was their race;
Thy never-changing office stands
Eternal as thy days.]
[Once in the circuit of a year,
With blood, but not his own,
Aaron within the veil appears
Before the golden throne:
But Christ, by his own powerful blood,
Ascends above the skies,
And in the presence of our God
Shows his own sacrifice.]
Jesus, the King of glory, reigns
On Zion's heav'nly hill;
Looks like a lamb that has been slain,
And wears his priesthood still.
He ever lives to intercede
Before his Father's face:
Give him, my soul, thy cause to plead,
Nor doubt the Father's grace.
poem by Isaac Watts
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Serve Fresh Bread Daily (1)
Anointed has a priest to be
Through holy oil the truth to see
Secrets of God they understand
Revealed to them in Jesus’ hand
But some still try to preach of sin
Without God’s Holy Ghost within
Using sweet words none to offend
They’ll only speak of God as friend
A God who’s heart’s so full of peace
His grace and love will never cease
They’ll take great care to choose each word
An angry God is seldom heard
With such stale bread they’ll feed God’s church
No wonder sheep through hunger search
For pastures green, by Jesus led
To a priest not spiritually dead
No priest should preach to fill their purse
Otherwise they’ll reap God’s curse Eze.34: 2
If Christ The Lord we’ll truly please
We’ll seek His face upon our knees
No child of God is mocked for long
Eating stale bread, washed down with song
The Lord sees well His children’s plight
From these shepherds, they’ll take their flight
So priest of God be not deceived
Speak the truth so God’s not grieved
Give through His Son your spiritual best
Then stand aside; He’ll do the rest
When called, you’ll know these words are true
That God awaits much fruit from you –Jn.15: 2
So from the flock that none should fall
Let’s make The Lord our one and all…PTO…
poem by Michael P. Johnson
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Oh That I Were As In Months Past!
Sweet was the time when first I felt
The Saviour's pard'ning blood
Applied, to cleanse my soul from guilt,
And bring me home to God.
Soon as the morn the light revealed,
His praises tuned my tongue;
And when the evening shades prevailed,
His love was all my song.
In vain the tempter spread his wiles,
The world no more could charm;
I lived upon my Saviour's smiles,
And leaned upon his arm.
In prayer my soul drew near the Lord,
And saw his glory shine;
And when I read his holy word,
I called each promise mine.
Then to his saints I often spoke;
Of what his love had done;
But now my heart is almost broke,
For all my joys are gone.
Now when the evening shade prevails,
My soul in darkness mourns,
And when the morn the light reveals,
No light to me returns.
My prayers are now a chatt'ring noise,
For Jesus hides his face;
I read, the promise meets my eyes,
But will not reach my case.
Now Satan threatens to prevail,
And make my soul his prey;
Yet, Lord, thy mercies cannot fail,
O come without delay.
poem by John Newton
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Hymn 147
The names and titles of Christ. From several scriptures.
['Tis from the treasures of his word
I borrow titles for my Lord;
Nor art nor nature can supply
Sufficient forms of majesty.
Bright image of the Father's face,
Shining with undiminished rays;
Th' eternal God's eternal Son,
The heir and partner of his throne.]
The King of kings, the Lord most high,
Writes his own name upon his thigh
He wears a garment dipped in blood,
And breaks the nations with his rod.
Where grace can neither melt nor move,
The Lamb resents his injured love;
Awakes his wrath without delay,
And Judah's Lion tears the prey.
But when for works of peace he comes,
What winning titles he assumes!
Light of the world, and Life of men;
Nor bears those characters in vain.
With tender pity in his heart,
He acts the Mediator's part;
A Friend and Brother he appears,
And well fulfils the names he wears.
At length the Judge his throne ascends,
Divides the rebels from his friends,
And saints in full fruition prove
His rich variety of love.
poem by Isaac Watts
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The Name Above All Names
Every book that's in the Bible has prophecies galore.
They are there for each disciple to praise God more and more.
The angels look into these things, new wonders each proclaims.
Of Jesus Christ each angel sings... The name above all names...
The Holy Spirit grants us truth... That's what He's all about.
The Holy Scriptures count as proof, to overcome Man's doubt.
A fruitful life full of good deeds, toward this each one aims,
Yet only Jesus Christ succeeds... The name above all names...
Who else has holy blood to shed, prepared to take a stance?
Who else has risen from the dead, God's pardon in His hands?
Who else shares wisdom night and day? Who else the Devil shames?
Christ is the life, the truth, the way, the name above all names...
Blessed is the heart that loves the Lord, when God's work has begun.
In Jesus, we can stand assured in what Christ's Blood has done.
Born of a virgin, undefiled, all guilt the Saviour tames...
In whose name are we reconciled? The name above all names!
(July 2011)
poem by Denis Martindale
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Hymn 61
Christ our High Priest and King.
Rev. 1:5-7.
Now to the Lord, that makes us know
The wonders of his dying love,
Be humble honors paid below,
And strains of nobler praise above.
'Twas he that cleansed our foulest sins,
And washed us in his richest blood;
'Tis he that makes us priests and kings,
And brings us rebels near to God.
To Jesus, our atoning Priest,
To Jesus, our superior King,
Be everlasting power confessed,
And every tongue his glory sing.
Behold, on flying clouds he comes,
And every eye shall see him move;
Though with our sins we pierced him once,
Then he displays his pard'ning love.
The unbelieving world shall wail,
While we rejoice to see the day:
Come, Lord; nor let thy promise fail,
Nor let thy chariots long delay.
poem by Isaac Watts
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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He Is Alive!
Though they called me Doubting Thomas,
I know Lord Jesus lives!
I know Lord Jesus died for us
And, through Him, God forgives!
The Lamb of God was sacrificed,
God's utmost love to show...
I tell you, Jesus is the Christ,
For this truth you must know...
While some were there when Jesus died,
As witnesses on Earth,
In Heaven, Christ is glorified,
God's angels know His worth...
They magnify His Holy Name
With praises evermore,
For life will never be the same
For Mankind, to be sure...
In truth, He is alive! Amen!
God's Holy King and Priest,
Returning soon, we know not when,
Like lightning, west-to-east!
His miracles are with us here
To help to save the Jews,
So hearts and minds are crystal clear,
Believing God's Good News!
What wondrous grace, love undeserved,
No pardon could we buy,
Yet from His Tomb, Christ was unearthed,
With power from on high!
What greater proof of love than this?
Forgiveness here and now...
Eternal Life! Eternal bliss!
No wonder angels bow!
The Gentiles, too, are grafted in,
United in God's Tree,
Such that God pardons every sin
Because of Calvary!
The sinless Saviour paid the price
That none on Earth could pay,
His Blood should make us all think twice,
For all have gone astray...
He is alive! Amen! Sweet Lord!
The prophecies outlined
What never should have been ignored,
If wisdom we would find...
Messiah! Thank You! Yes, indeed!
Your courage means so much...
Life offered in the Blood You bleed,
Love in Your healing touch...
From age-to-age, Christ's truths bring hope,
To both the young and old,
To strengthen us, to help us cope,
As sheep within His fold...
For we are His and not our own,
He makes us all complete...
Good Shepherd, lead us to God's Throne,
His wondrous Mercy Seat...
Denis Martindale, copyright, January 2012.
poem by Denis Martindale
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Prayer Is the Soul's Sincere Desire
Prayer is the soul’s sincere desire,
Unuttered or expressed;
The motion of a hidden fire
That trembles in the breast.
Prayer is the burden of a sigh,
The falling of a tear
The upward glancing of an eye,
When none but God is near.
Prayer is the simplest form of speech
That infant lips can try;
The upward glancing of an eye,
When none but God is near.
Prayer is the Christian’s vital breath,
The Christian’s native air,
His watchword at the gates of death;
He enters heaven with prayer.
O Thou, by Whom we come to God,
The Life, the Truth, the Way;
The path of prayer Thyself hast trod:
Lord, teach us how to pray!
Prayer is the contrite sinner’s voice,
Returning from his ways,
While angels in their songs rejoice
And cry, “Behold, he prays!”
The saints in prayer appear as one
In word, in deed, and mind,
While with the Father and the Son
Sweet fellowship they find.
No prayer is made by man alone
The Holy Spirit pleads,
And Jesus, on th’eternal throne,
For sinners intercedes.
O Thou by Whom we come to God,
The Life, the Truth, the Way,
The path of prayer Thyself hast trod:
Lord, teach us how to pray.
poem by James Montgomery
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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In His Hands
My soul is in the hands of God, not earthly men on earthly sod,
I have been bought by His Son, through the blood of only One.
In the Son alone, I take my stand, securely in the Father’s Hand.
A life in Heaven, I’m assured, not through religion, but my Lord.
And when I pray, I pray to Him, not to another one also with sin,
For I have access to His Throne, and He calls me His very own.
Religion is not what I profess, and to a priest, I do not confess,
As I have a Priest high above, who died for me, moved by love.
Religion did not save my soul, for it was Christ, who died for all,
All religions were diminished, when The Son said “It is Finished”.
Now all the work has been done, upon the cross by God’s Son.
I do not give mere men praise, as the Cross of Christ I will raise.
Only by Grace I’ve been saved, from a heart that’s so depraved,
Through this Grace I received, it was God’s Truth that I believed.
Saving Truth that sets men free, a Truth that flows from Calvary,
Freed of man’s religious rules, which only create religious fools.
I only have one Father in Heaven; all others are Spiritual Leaven,
Part of the coming apostasy, built through eyes that cannot see.
With Christ there’s no uncertainty, regarding my place in Eternity,
For the moment I leave this place, I shall be greeted by His face.
Through my journey in this life, I fix my eyes upon Jesus Christ,
Who opened them and my heart, with a Hope for when I depart.
A Hope, not on religious emptiness, but on His Righteousness,
Righteousness from God above, to save me by a Savior’s love.
(10/2007)
Access To God
I speak to The Father every day, through one very Glorious Way,
A way provided for you and me, to speak to the God of Eternity.
I speak to Him only through one, the Father’s only begotten Son,
Christ gained access for His own, directly to His Father’s Throne.
I have access to His Throne of Grace, at all times from any place,
An access never denied to those, who truly believe His Son rose.
A religious support, I have none, as I go through God’s Own Son,
Christ, who is my High Priest, handling concern without the yeast.
As my High Priest He intercedes, with His Father for all my needs,
Christ’s our High Priest forever, reigning with a Righteous Scepter.
Of our needs, He knows everything, ruling also as Sovereign King,
The Lamb of Glory, now Glorified, is reigning by The Father’s side.
Knowing all that Christ endured, He is our friend, not just our Lord,
Completing for all the final sacrifice; paying in full sin’s total price.
Now seated at The Father’s side, is the One who sinners crucified,
Redeeming all the world, that day, as His Father, had turned away.
God turned as Christ bore the sin, that was not at all a part of Him,
But, He bore our sin and our grief, to bring to all men Divine relief,
And changes Christ has wrought, in the hearts of those He bought,
Through all of the humble prayers, to a loving God who truly cares.
(Copyright ©12/2007)