(Christ carrying the cross by El Greco)
There was a child once hailed as King
By herald angels to hirelings
“God’s ancient promises are now at hand
Of joy and peace to the realms of man
And lo, His kingdom will have no end”
Yet if you saw His swaddled figure, laid
Within the manger meant for hay
‘He ain’t much for a king’, you well may say
.
This King’s tribute not in treasures lay
From vassal lords seeking favour to win
But as people scoffed, a woman in sin,
With her hair and tears washed His feet
Of such broken acts, He freely admits
“Those forgiven much, love much.” He says
.
The King’s procession was brought to a halt
By a blind beggar’s cry from the roadside
‘What an inconvenience’, others made light
Yet the King blessed the beggar’s faith with sight
A faith that leads us as our guide –
Following, giving praise to God
.
The King’s moment of coronation neared
Throngs who longed for His reign to appear
Lined the streets to sing, “Blessed be the coming King”
Yet none knew what His triumph would cost,
For He who rode astride a colt
.
There was a King who looked up, saw
Offerings to God, big and small
And points out the widow who gave her all
Two small coins, under fortunes, veil’d
Outweighs the rest by heaven’s scale
.
The King, when asked about the time to come
Shared not of an august enshrinement of His reign.
For monuments will shatter, violent hands lay
On His own. And pretenders clamber for
The throne; creation will rend, and loved ones
Betray, as fractures since the fall extend
Yet within those cracks, fresh life springs
‘Though all thinks You mad, as for Me they had’
‘You will speak right to might’, so says the King
‘Though You be in chains, Your words will have wings’
This King, as kings are, was enwrapped in plots
Man’s hate and envy sought to unravel Him
Yet onwards He stepped into this web of schemes
For behind it the power of sin, that leashes
All to their end, damned by the weight of their faults
Would finally sink its hooks deep in Him
‘Oh deep, deep, is dark of man’, He sighs
‘To drink it dry would cost my life’
But laying down His right as God’s begotten Son
He prays, ‘Not My will but Yours be done’
.
There was a King whose followers fled
In His hour of need, He stood alone
For all He sowed was blown as chaff
But still He sees – grains of hope with heft –
The fallen established as living stones
He stood cast off, condemned by man, and yet
He thought Himself seated at God’s right hand
.
There was a King, hailed as such
By His beating, spitting, mocking guards
Then nailed to the cross, and lifted high
The King now hangs, crucified
‘If you’re indeed God’s chosen one, come down’
Some sneered, ‘‘You ain’t much of a king, where You’re now’
The King, in ragged breaths still appealed
‘Father, forgive them, for they know not what they do’
.
This King, in His dying, was flanked by thieves
One, reviling, sought release from his fate
The other, to the bleeding King did cleave
The contrite plea is never too late, for
The King replies – “You’ll be with Me in paradise”
.
And while darkness reigned and the sun’s light failed
The path back to God was now unveiled
Though we thought He took the accursed lot
He entrusted His spirit back to God
The centurion seeing this crowning scene
Said, “Surely this was the righteous King”
.
He ain’t much of a king, by kingly worth
The king of herdsmen, beggars, knaves and thieves
Who prized two copper coins, who received
The whores and outcasts of the earth
The scandalous, credulous, foolish King
For what does He claim, to His name?
Not monuments built on the backs of man
But the broken, lost, the profane
The ruins of sinful man He sought
Pursuing them past the very end
To rebuild as the temple of God
.
The King is dead, and what of His reign?
His garments stripped, for lots were torn
He wears a crown, twisted with thorns
His arms are raised, not for accolades won
But spread out in love in the midst of scorn
Oh! What shame have we heaped on Him to bear
And what pains of man He willingly shared
He blood was shed to bring us peace
His wounds did purchase our ease
.
There is a King, seek not for Him within
Memorials that preserve the past; He’s not
Immortalised by man’s undertakings
With the grave as His concluding plot
For behold, Death’s no longer set in stone
He is risen, over all enthroned!
Marvel not at the grave clothes left behind
He clothes us now with power from on high
.
All hail the King – still the angels sing
For nev’r too much can be made of Him
The King of the city up above
Whose right makes might, whose light is love
The God who came as man to reclaim
Lost sinners to become saints
And seals on them His own name
Praises ring from all like a stricken bell
Hallelujah! He’s broken the pow’r of hell
Our redeeming King, how grand His plans
For He makes all things exceedingly well
And lo, His kingdom will have no end
.
Wander on men do, down roads far and away
And He still walks concealed in their midst
But truth’s not silent, catching thoughts that fray
And those who walk along learn how all truth meets
In Him, God’s word writ in full array
Their hearts still burn, with His words
They feast on His gladsome, poured out love
Their eyes may open, glimpsing what they’ve heard
The God who lays out the table and serves
They speak of Him knowing their words have wings
They wait for life to break like spring
‘The road to Emmaus’ Robert Zund