Doxology-- A prose poem in 3 parts

Part I

Alpha.
Almighty.
Apostle and High Priest.
Son of God.
Word of God,
Living Water.
The consolation of Israel.

If I had a voice, I would sing of the wondrous Lord Who crucified the flesh of many men. I would sing of His salvation, of His wisdom, of the surpassing righteousness of His every thought and desire, and the splendid, awesome wrath that He brings on those who dare to trespass against His purity.

I would sing, had I voice, of earth’s liberation—of the King of Kings, and His two thorny crowns (one to tear the flesh, and one to rend the soul). I would sing of the Lamb of God so sinlessly slain that while His blood stained the alter, His glory set it flaming. The force of His holy ardor dug out a font of life for a race all born dead.

If I could sing, I would sing a lament for those other songs never sung, hymns aborted before conception by a single sin that rendered infertile the minds and hearts of all men. If God had given me the knowledge, I would move the church to weep for every insult offered to Him, for every word that wasn’t spoken, every act that wasn’t done for the praise of His glory. Have you not heard, o man? No other treasure will endure. At the sounding of the trumpet, the First and Last will burn the chaff of human history, and only gold bought from Him will survive.

Part II

Immanuel,
Creator.
Cornerstone.
Morning Star.
Justifier!
Mighty Fortress.
Lord of the Harvest,
Avenger.
Holy One,
Head of the church,
Heir of all.

That single Event that happened one afternoon outside a little Middle Eastern city stands now as the vortex of history. Every land is caught by its power, and every event. Time is counted by it, cultures are changed and lives are driven. The births and deaths of governments, the germination and decay of whole peoples have been carried out in its shadow. The roots of the Cross go down to the very heart of the earth, and its arms straddle the sky. It rises high like a gaunt specter, reeking of blood: the stench of death to those who hate it, but the fragrance of life to those who follow it. Truth lies in its path, cutting a line across the earth, dividing the righteous from the unrighteous, and securing the Lord’s own.

This—this herald of God’s mercy and promise of God’s wrath, this troubling, ugly, glorious, confounding thing has wrought upon the world a change such as those who stood and watched Jesus die could never have guessed. Those who mocked Him never thought their words would resonate across the centuries; those who condemned Him knew not how many would condemn them. But still we see record of their deeds, printed on the rice-paper pages of our Bibles, and through them, poor vessels of wrath, God has brought Himself undying praise. To a people led back from the darkness, He is the Dayspring, the source of the morning! Proclaimed as Redeemer, worshipped as Servant, the Son of God is now the Lamb that Sits at the Center of the Throne, and this title is His highest crown.

Sing! Sing, oh nations, and shout oh people of God! Sing aloud, and shout! The chorus of many races shall rise someday, many tribes as one Chosen People, one Holy Nation, one Royal Priesthood. For the glory of God, and of God alone, the Triune Untied One, perfection compounded twice, shall the light of His love rain upon the heads of a wretched multitude, and make their sorrow joy. From now until the end of time, and from then into eternity, shall saints say and angels affirm the intrinsic beauty of every Thought of God, the justice of His Words, the excellence of His lasting renown. He is our Hope and our Salvation. He is the exquisite Pearl of very Great Price. He is the eternal, incandescent flame, and we like moths shall forever be flying toward Him.

Part III

Refiner.
Righteous One,
the Bread of Life.
Intercessor.
Lover of our souls,
He who heals.
Our Hope!
Faithful God.
Jealous God.
Forgiving God.

I would sing, if I could, of His song. I would sing of the great symphony He is making from time, as every day that passes adds a note to His staff, and every eon forms a new movement. Vast, spectacular, in a tapestry huger than the heavens, He has spun out melody and harmony, orchestrating creation, and wooing the world by His power. The overbearing theme of this symphony is His Glory: it sounds and repeats, echoing off the walls of the universe, escalating into the deafening climax of Christ’s death on the hill called Golgotha, when perfect love did perfect justice meet. Now, it resounds still, recurring like a fugue in the ears of those who can hear it.

Many men have lived and many tales have been told. The writing of many books is endless, says the Teacher, and meaningless. People have worshipped God, and they have hated Him. His Name has been foully spat on. The Hands that Bled have been arrogantly scorned. All men have hated Him, our blessed Redeemer, and only some have loved Him. Yet what, after all, is the conclusion to the babble that has filled this planet and now howls louder than before? God in His grace and in His inscrutable, incorruptible righteousness still stands, unmoved, immutable, and His is the anthem that the nations will sing. All these songs have been sung, and here sing I now mine, but in the end there is no song but His. And the flawless execution of His immaculate plan will be seen, and wondered at, and praised, and acknowledged, and then every person who has ever refuted the truth of His Word, every eye that ever was closed to His Sovereignty, every tongue that failed, as mine has, to give Him the praise and the thunderous applause that He so deserves, all together will cry,

“Glory!
Worship the Lord God of Hosts!
Kneel before Him,
Come in the Joy of His Splendor or
the Fear of His Wrath for He is
Pure
and the Might of His Honor is like an Army of Warriors.”
“Holy,” cry the people of God,
“Holiness is His banner!”
“Lord!” cry even those who despised Him,
“Lord is He, Christ, the Son of God,
Jesus Christ the crucified is Lord indeed!”

And the Radiance and Representation of God’s own Being will rise like the blinding, unveiled sun over the line of the earth’s horizon, Incandescent and Holy, and men will fall prostrate, and seraphim will shout, and then we will know.

The Lord Saves.
Omega.
Amen.

The Last Word

This is a work in progress, and you must forgive the limitations of this blog. Much of my poetry has to be altered when I post it here, because it won't let me indent anything, or center part of it without centering the whole thing, and it often eliminates spaces between lines for me. The original version is a little easier to read because of these things, but I hope you will enjoy it anyway.

“Behold, I am the Lord your God.
I, the Lord, am the maker of all things,
I am He.
I am He who forms light and creates darkness.
I, even I, am the Lord,
and there is no savior besides Me.”

“It is I who have declared and saved and proclaimed—
who is there who speaks and it comes to pass,
unless the Lord has commanded it?
Is it not from mouth of the Most High
— there is none who can deliver out of My hand—
that both good and ill go forth?
—I act and who can reverse it?”

Then the angel said to them,
“Do not be afraid, for behold, I bring you good tidings of
great joy which will be to all people. For there is
born to you this day in the city of David
a Savior, who is Christ the Lord.”

Thus says the Lord,
Who makes a way through the sea
And a path through the mighty
waters,
Who brings forth the chariot and the horse,
The army and the mighty man,
“I, even I, am the one who
wipes out your transgressions
for My own sake.
Is My hand so short that it cannot ransom?
Do not tremble, and do not
be afraid.
I am the first—
Is it not from the mouth of the Most High
—and I am the last—
that both calamities and good things come?
—And there is no God besides Me!”

“For My own sake,
for My own sake, I will act;
For how can My name be profaned?
And My glory
I will not give to another.”
.
What shall we say, then?
There is no injustice with God, is there?...
May it never be!

“Blessed are you when men hate you, and when they exclude you,
And revile you, and cast out your name as evil,
for the Son of Man’s sake. Rejoice in that day and leap for joy!
For indeed your reward is great in heaven.”

And the Word of the Lord came to me,
saying,
“Son of man, the house of Israel has become dross
to Me, therefore
--Then they will know
I will gather you in My anger
--that I am the Lord
and in My wrath and I
--their God.
will lay you there and melt you.”
For, says the Lord,
“I, I will vindicate the HOLINESS
of My Name.
I, the Lord, who brought you out of Egypt.”

“Hear, O Israel,
the LORD your God is
one God.”

BUT NOW
the righteousness of God
apart from the law
--O the depth of the riches
of the wisdom and knowledge of God! --
is revealed;
Even the righteousness of God, through
faith in Jesus Christ
--So His visage was marred more than any man,
And His form more than the sons of men; --
to all and
on all
who believe, for there is no difference:
For all have sinned, and fall short of the glory of God;
--How unsearchable are His judgments--
being justified freely by His grace
through the redemption that is in Christ Jesus,
--and His ways past finding out! --
Whom God set forth
--He was oppressed, and He was afflicted
yet He opened not His mouth--
as a propitiation by His blood,
--He is brought as a lamb to the slaughter;--
through faith,
to demonstrate His righteousness, because
in His forbearance God had passed over
the sins that were previously committed,
--But He was wounded for our transgressions,--
to demonstrate at the present time
--He was bruised for our iniquities--
His righteousness, that He
--The chastisement for our peace was upon Him--
might be JUST, and
the JUSTIFIER
of the one who has faith in Jesus.
--And by His stripes we are healed.

Who are you, O man, who
answers back to God?
For from Him and through Him
and to Him are all things!

“Have you ever in your life
commanded the morning,
and caused the dawn to
know its place?
You shall not make other gods
of silver or gold,
for I am He.

“Whoever comes to Me,
and hears My sayings
and does them,
I will show you whom he is like:
He is like a man
building a house,
who dug deep
and laid the foundation on the rock.”

In triumph I will parcel out
Shechem,
and measure off the Valley of Succoth.
Gilead is mine, and Manesseh
is mine;
Ephraim is my helmet,
Judah is my sceptor.
Moab is my washbasin,
upon Edom I toss my sandal;
over Philistia I shout in triumph.”

On Finding God After the Rain

I found God today, in a patch of mushrooms.
They, golden-domed pavilions in emerald grass,
with cap, stem and gills—His divinity looms
in them. They astound me with intricacy.

I found God today, walking a black street
turned blue by the sky in its still, broad puddles—
Heaven’s streets are paved with gold, but now they meet
me, as I walk these streets here paved with Heaven.

I found God today, I found His Son in bark
of a tree, rough like the rough wood that scraped His
shoulders whipped raw when He bore my cross, that dark
dark day—with light for me shining through branches.

I found God today, in a raindrop falling
from a flower at my touch, like a blood drop,
tear drop on His face at His Father calling
Him to anguish and abandonment for me.

I found my God today—for He is ever
here, wooing me, showing me His hidden face,
His silent voice, the world He made never
hushed, but always shouting His name with joy.

"A Divine Song of Praise to God, for a Child", by Isaac Watts

This comes from The 1777 New England Primer, which I made an updated version of a few years ago.

How glorious is our heavenly King,
Who reigns above the sky!
How shall a child presume to sing
His righteous majesty!

How great His power is none can tell,
Nor think how great His grace;
Nor men below, nor saints that dwell
On high before His face.

Nor angels that stand 'round the Lord,
Can know His secret will;
But they perform His heavenly Word,
and sing His praises still.

Then let me join this holy train,
And my first offerings bring;
Eternal God will not disdain
to hear an infant sing.

My heart resolves, my tongue obeys,
And angels shall rejoice,
To hear their mighty Maker's praise
Sound from a feeble voice.

The Bride Awaits

“Behold, I am coming soon!” Revelation 22:7

Breathless
behind her veil,
longing
to see His face….
Eagerly
she looks for Him.

Her maids press her with food.
“Here, eat something, do not wait—
you do not know when He will come.
It may not be soon.”

“Eat? How could I eat?
How can I think of food
when He is coming—
my bridegroom is coming with the clouds in the morning,
striding across the hills whose cattle are His, with
feet like fine brass,
and a radiant face
—His head like gold, His eyes a flame—
in splendor and beauty!
He is coming,
He is coming for me,
my bridegroom, my love!
No, I shall not eat. Not until I eat my marriage feast.”

Her maids bring her a chair.
“Well, sit, at least.
Take off your veil. Rest
from your vigil—He will not come soon.”

“Rest from waiting? I could not rest.
Not until my heart
rests its yearning.
Take off my veil? I shall not.
He told me to wait for Him—
He told me to be ready.
How if He should come, and find me
sleeping,
my dress awry, my veil cast off,
as if I did not believe Him?
as if I did not love Him?
Could I not stay awake?
Could I not watch,
could I not pray an hour,
for Him,
my Lord, my bridegroom, my lover,
whose coming shall shake the earth, and overthrow
all doubts
and evil by the breath of His mouth?
Is my beloved not mine?
Am I not His?
Is He not altogether lovely?
Glory shines around Him,
truth and justice march before Him,
and my redemption comes carried in His strong, pierced hands.
Prince! Warrior! Husband!
He will not forget me.
He will not delay.”

“Well then,” said her maids,
“How long shall we wait?”

“We will wait until He comes,”
was her reply.
“We will wait through the long dark of night,
for He is coming swiftly, as the dawn.
—Come, ladies. Trim your lamps,
and do not forget the oil.
He may come at any hour.
Do not be troubled—we may tarry here a night,
but He will bring us joy
in the morning.
My bridegroom, my beloved is coming!
He is coming soon.”


Partial list of Scriptures
Psalm 30:5
Song of Songs 5:10-16; 6:3
Matthew 9:15, 25:1-13
Mark 14:37-41
Ephesians 5:25-27
Revelation 1:13-15; 21:2; 22:7

The Name I Call

When in my dreams I’m running steep
From shapes and fears that spring to life,
Instinctively, though still asleep,
The name I call is Jesus.

When dreams won’t come, and sleep evades
My heavy eyes and weary mind;
As stars grow dim beyond the shades
The name I call is Jesus.

When sin’s allurement makes me groan,
And my poor will grows weak within;
When I cannot win, or fight, alone,
The name I call is Jesus.

When I don’t call to Him in time
To stop my head long rush to sin,
And tones of shame within me chime,
The name I call is Jesus.

When problems rise, wrongs I have done,
And sins are catching up with me,
I just seek mercy from God’s Son:
The name I call is Jesus.

When anxious thoughts crowd my hours
With worldly needs yet to be filled,
Praise be to He who clothes the flowers!
The name I call is Jesus.

When griefs that I don’t understand,
And losses that I can’t control
Come carried by Almighty’s hand,
The name I call is Jesus.

When pleasantness fills up my path
And peaceful night trails peaceful day,
He's still the One who took God’s wrath:
The name I call is Jesus.

When prayers are answered, joy surprises,
When God forgives me once again;
When each day the sun still rises!—
The name I call is Jesus.

And when some day bright trumpets cry
And all the earth must turn to see
The God descending from His sky—
The name I’ll call is Jesus.

And, when in time, before His throne,
All nations, tribes and tongues must say
That there is one who’s Lord alone—
The name they’ll call is Jesus!

On His Omniscience

How foolish we, who think to see the course
of things to be as if our wisdom ranked
sufficient for the calculations that
requires. How small our knowing when compared
to He Who Knows the Thoughts of All, our Lord.
Awareness with out thought and knowledge with
out learning! Ever understanding, He
made time but to encompass His works like
a frame or a glass bottle might. Their worth
is Heaven’s platinum and diamonds; they
are indestructible, so what was done
in time for us renews eternally
a contract made. The future holds for Him
no mysteries; He planned it. Every day
He makes it out of present. He made it
unchangeable before the rock and fire.

This was my first experiment into writing blank verse--i.e. unrhymed iambic pentameter--in college. It was this attempt to begin to bring discipline to my usually free-verse style of writing that eventually led to the sonnets that have already been posted here. Rhyme and meter still present considerable challenges to me, but I continue to try to wrestle language and passion and meaning into the strict forms of yesteryear; I think poets today tend to get lazy, and I don't want that to be true of me.