Monday, April 25, 2011

High upon Golgotha’s Hill A Poem For Easter Sunday

High upon Golgotha’s Hill

High upon Golgotha’s Hill
Upon an old rugged cross you lay so still
As still as the sea that you calmed
Until it did us no harm.
No, None at all…
So How could you , Lord Jesus of Nazareth, Fall?
Submitting to mere flesh and blood
You, the creator from up above!
Rejected by those you dearly loved.

High upon Golgotha’s Hill
The Lamb Of God was Killed!
A holy sacrifice, whose blood ran down,
From furrowed brow adorned with thorns, in matted hair
The Pharisees, The Sadducees, they did not care.
The Sweet Love of Christ They did not share.
But all I could do was stare
And ask WHERE?
WHERE was the Love of God?
Was it somehow hard for God to see
That this innocent man should be set free? Instead of a thief?
My soul cries out in mourning because of grief…..But then, God said
My child, Cease and Desist, from thinking thoughts such as this!

This is no tragedy!
He hangs there in glorious transcendent majesty!

It’s because of my Love, that my son is Dead.
Dry thy tears! let another not be shed.

For He was willingly led right to this cross,
Knowing the cost, that at the end none would be lost
My love is HERE hanging upon this cruel, cursed tree!,
Embodied in Christ on Calvary.

He took on this pain, so you would never know the shame
So that you could have power in his Name!
That’s why he was slain. Upon the cross, and will remain
Till every guilty stain is washed away from you

THAT’S what Christ came to do.

And then, I said,
What a brilliant, yet, unorthodox plan!
Which could only have been conceived by the great I AM!
That A GOD would become a child
That a KING would come become a Servant
That a WARRIOR would surrender
And because he did, this Easter Sunday, we all remember.

By El Prophet The Scribe
On Easter Sunday. April 2011.

1 comment:

  1. I was asked if I could write a poem for Easter Sunday Service and inspiration was not coming for a week. I wrote something initially that was "good" but upon closer examination, I found it was just egotistical, empty fluff. I sat down at my computer 30 minutes before morning service, and THIS came out of "nowhere". I've become SOMEWHAT accustomed to the way God inspires me to write. He seems to likes to wait until the last possible moment to inspire me and it always truns out better than what I expected.