The Word of Life 10/11/94
Yeshua, your words are the words of life.
I want your words to become my words.
All that is in me is not enough.
You
You have the words of life.
Thursday, August 13, 2015
When He Comes
When He Comes
Oh that you would rend the heavens and come down!
All our hope rests in you;
All our hope rests in you.
The lost carry on, busier and busier, with bigger and bigger problems;
The damned continue to vaunt themselves and to terrorize the lost;
Babylon is grooming herself with meticulous care
And the Bride--Is she not veiled?
Tell me, Lord, are you soon here?
Oh, that you would rend the heavens and come down!
All my hope rests in you;
All my hope rests in you.
Oct 10 1994
Oh that you would rend the heavens and come down!
All our hope rests in you;
All our hope rests in you.
The lost carry on, busier and busier, with bigger and bigger problems;
The damned continue to vaunt themselves and to terrorize the lost;
Babylon is grooming herself with meticulous care
And the Bride--Is she not veiled?
Tell me, Lord, are you soon here?
Oh, that you would rend the heavens and come down!
All my hope rests in you;
All my hope rests in you.
Oct 10 1994
Hymn
Hymn
Therefore I say
Holy, holy, holy, is Jesus Christ, the Lord God Almighty.
Just and true are your judgments, Oh Lord.
I give glory to God the Most High; the Ancient of Days;
Him who knew the end from the beginning.
Oh, Father, you are glorious and greatly to be praised,
For Your lovingkindness goes beyond all bound.
You alone are God my saviour,
And man has nothing to be proud of!
Wherein can I boast, except in Thee?
For my Lord, even were I cast into hell, what can I say otherwise
But that You are the sovereign Lord?
But that You sent your son Jesus
To bear the punishment of our sins and the sins of the world?
But that You are in Him, and He is in You,
And that You will have a people to call Your very own:
Holy, spotless, blameless and pure!
But that You will give a bride to your son,
And redeem Your people Israel!
All my hope
Rests in Your saving grace.
All my faith
Rests in Your will and Your good pleasure
And the work finished from the foundation of the world.
I rest
In You.
Therefore I say
Holy, holy, holy, is Jesus Christ, the Lord God Almighty.
Just and true are your judgments, Oh Lord.
I give glory to God the Most High; the Ancient of Days;
Him who knew the end from the beginning.
Oh, Father, you are glorious and greatly to be praised,
For Your lovingkindness goes beyond all bound.
You alone are God my saviour,
And man has nothing to be proud of!
Wherein can I boast, except in Thee?
For my Lord, even were I cast into hell, what can I say otherwise
But that You are the sovereign Lord?
But that You sent your son Jesus
To bear the punishment of our sins and the sins of the world?
But that You are in Him, and He is in You,
And that You will have a people to call Your very own:
Holy, spotless, blameless and pure!
But that You will give a bride to your son,
And redeem Your people Israel!
All my hope
Rests in Your saving grace.
All my faith
Rests in Your will and Your good pleasure
And the work finished from the foundation of the world.
I rest
In You.
Gathering
Gathering 8/18/94--2000
Yahweh urged Enoch to come away, and Enoch did not hesitate. Enoch walked with God, and then Enoch was not, because God took him.
Yahweh urged Noah to come away. The righteous man with his wife, and his three sons, and their wives, and two of all kinds, plus their fodder; they all climbed into the ark. The ark was this: the labor of a lifetime which received derision and scorn; the object of unbelief, ready now for a moment in time, to bear away the people of El Shaddai, and all that pertained to their salvation; borne away upon the crests of the waves which buried the deep.
Yahweh urged Abram to come away. And why would one leave a life of settled prosperity, settled beliefs, settled future, all certainty, unless there was no hope to justify it? How could all be erased by a single call unless none of it offered hope? So the man wandered off with his wife, his flocks, his cattle, his camels, and his servants, and all that pertained to his salvation was wrapped up in the forecast of the hope that God held out.
Yahweh urged Lot to come away. Vexed as he was, yet angels came to guarantee his way. Laughed to scorn and harassed with sin, yet angels came to pull him out. Go with God, go with God and forsake him not. Why should you perish partaking in their folly?
The God of Jacob urged him to come away. Jacob urged his wives to come away. Fourteen years he served their father's house with honest labor, and fourteen years, treated like a hireling. All that he had gained by God's grace was now gathered, poised for flight, for the time was at hand. Oh, Laban, while you were sleeping, the God of Abraham covered the sheep. While you were counting, Laban, the God of Isaac caused the sheep to pass under the rod. Your gain became unfit, and his became strong. Now, they are leaving in strength and in peace, and in secret, and what is left to you? You may run after them, and even bind them by oath to do no harm, but you will never get them back.
Yahweh urged Moses to come away. So Moses petitioned Pharaoh,
"Let my people go." But Pharaoh hardened his own heart to stone and heaped oppression like rubble on Israel.
"Come away," urged I AM.
"Let my people go!" petitioned Moses.
"Increase their burdens," replied Pharaoh. Israel groaned.
"Then with signs and wonders will I afflict Egypt and rescue thee," Yahweh declared. All of Egypt began to reel under the grinding weight of the hand of God, but in Goshen it is light. There is peace. That which devastates Egypt of all her firstborn becomes a point of covenant between the Redeemer and His people.
Pharaoh still darkens counsel with words of folly. He runs after them, setting out with cart horses to pursue a people guarded by an Angel. Oh, Pharaoh! You may run after them to bind them, but you will never get them back. Pharaoh’s army got drownded, and you, Israel, you walked, dry footed, upon the river floor. Above or below, water will not drown you. Can fire then consume you? Yahweh said "I AM, and where I AM, you too shall be."
Yahweh urged Daniel to come away. So Daniel separated himself from the King's table and ate none of the King's food. Instead he ate for strength in his God. In Babylon, he sanctified himself in his God. In exile, his God proved that the fear of the Lord is the beginning of wisdom. Even in Babylon's fiery furnace, the saints greet thee, Holy One. Even in the lion’s den, you will keep our way free of blood-guilt.
His Father urged Jesus to come away. You are My Lure, He said. The way He drew Jesus the adversary can not follow. He drew Jesus over the surface of the water. He drew Jesus through Babylon. He drew Jesus to the nails and the wood, and then into the grave, where no-one brings wife, or sons, or kinds, or fodder. He trolled Jesus through the grave and to the gloomy dungeons of the dead. He reeled Jesus from the tomb and up to the skies. Oh, how you do confound your ancient foe! His greatest triumph you have turned over to his roundest defeat. I took God's Lure, and He drew me through! No, Satan, through the grave you cannot follow me. Set out with your hordes and try to bind me! Pharaoh’s army got drownded.... Set out with your fires to consume! Set out with your lions to devour! My escape hatch is your prison wall. My release is your retribution! For though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil. Jesus walked here first. “Thy rod and thy staff, they comfort me.” He will never leave me.
God urged the Bride to come away. The Holy One came to fetch a bride for the Lamb. He raised his lamp to search for the one of God's choosing. See, how quiet her face? How trusting her eye? How lovely, her heart? Holy One to wash her. Holy One to clothe her. Holy One to lead her. Holy One to comfort her. She will leave everything to follow you, all for the promise of the Lamb.
Let my people go!
But Babylon has not acknowledged her defeat. Instead, she picked her way through the discounts at the market place.
"Ah," she said, "A gorgeous robe, fit for a Queen. I must have a robe to rule in." It was her shroud.
Let my people go!
Then she settled herself above the grazing flock and said, "Ah, meat. I must have meat." It was her abomination.
Let my people go!
Then she scrutinized the Word, and made out for herself liturgies and repetitions, saying, "Service! I must have service." It was her epitaph.
Let my people go!
Then she strode up and down the land, spreading her name through her liturgies and repetitions, declaring her sovereignty through her office, and receiving homage to herself because of her accouterments. It was her tombstone.
Come out of her, my people!
Oh, Babylon, while you were buttoning your coat,
The Ancient of Days was preparing clean white linen.
While you were wiping your mouth, He was preparing a table.
Babylon, while you wrote your epitaph,
The Holy One intoned in sighs too deep for words.
Messiah stood to intercede.
While you trod across the land,
Messiah was seated at the right hand of God.
While you garnered support,
He was crowned with many crowns.
While you received praise of men,
He received glory, honor, praise, and dominion
From the Almighty God; the Most High; the Eternal.
While you multiplied your bastard children, Babylon,
The God of Enoch chaperoned the Bride.
While you slept, Babylon, the God of Abraham covered the sheep.
While you counted your glittering tithes,
The God of Isaac caused the sheep to pass under the rod.
Now they are flocking to the Good Shepherd in strength,
And in peace, and what an exodus it is!
In a moment of time,
What you treated as common is spirited away,
Secretly---
The Kingdom of Heaven comes not with observation.
What you regarded in unbelief is lifted up and born away, an ark.
And where they go, you cannot follow!
The crest of their salvation is the grindstone of your retribution.
Beware, Babylon, the kings of men.
Yahweh urged Enoch to come away, and Enoch did not hesitate. Enoch walked with God, and then Enoch was not, because God took him.
Yahweh urged Noah to come away. The righteous man with his wife, and his three sons, and their wives, and two of all kinds, plus their fodder; they all climbed into the ark. The ark was this: the labor of a lifetime which received derision and scorn; the object of unbelief, ready now for a moment in time, to bear away the people of El Shaddai, and all that pertained to their salvation; borne away upon the crests of the waves which buried the deep.
Yahweh urged Abram to come away. And why would one leave a life of settled prosperity, settled beliefs, settled future, all certainty, unless there was no hope to justify it? How could all be erased by a single call unless none of it offered hope? So the man wandered off with his wife, his flocks, his cattle, his camels, and his servants, and all that pertained to his salvation was wrapped up in the forecast of the hope that God held out.
Yahweh urged Lot to come away. Vexed as he was, yet angels came to guarantee his way. Laughed to scorn and harassed with sin, yet angels came to pull him out. Go with God, go with God and forsake him not. Why should you perish partaking in their folly?
The God of Jacob urged him to come away. Jacob urged his wives to come away. Fourteen years he served their father's house with honest labor, and fourteen years, treated like a hireling. All that he had gained by God's grace was now gathered, poised for flight, for the time was at hand. Oh, Laban, while you were sleeping, the God of Abraham covered the sheep. While you were counting, Laban, the God of Isaac caused the sheep to pass under the rod. Your gain became unfit, and his became strong. Now, they are leaving in strength and in peace, and in secret, and what is left to you? You may run after them, and even bind them by oath to do no harm, but you will never get them back.
Yahweh urged Moses to come away. So Moses petitioned Pharaoh,
"Let my people go." But Pharaoh hardened his own heart to stone and heaped oppression like rubble on Israel.
"Come away," urged I AM.
"Let my people go!" petitioned Moses.
"Increase their burdens," replied Pharaoh. Israel groaned.
"Then with signs and wonders will I afflict Egypt and rescue thee," Yahweh declared. All of Egypt began to reel under the grinding weight of the hand of God, but in Goshen it is light. There is peace. That which devastates Egypt of all her firstborn becomes a point of covenant between the Redeemer and His people.
Pharaoh still darkens counsel with words of folly. He runs after them, setting out with cart horses to pursue a people guarded by an Angel. Oh, Pharaoh! You may run after them to bind them, but you will never get them back. Pharaoh’s army got drownded, and you, Israel, you walked, dry footed, upon the river floor. Above or below, water will not drown you. Can fire then consume you? Yahweh said "I AM, and where I AM, you too shall be."
Yahweh urged Daniel to come away. So Daniel separated himself from the King's table and ate none of the King's food. Instead he ate for strength in his God. In Babylon, he sanctified himself in his God. In exile, his God proved that the fear of the Lord is the beginning of wisdom. Even in Babylon's fiery furnace, the saints greet thee, Holy One. Even in the lion’s den, you will keep our way free of blood-guilt.
His Father urged Jesus to come away. You are My Lure, He said. The way He drew Jesus the adversary can not follow. He drew Jesus over the surface of the water. He drew Jesus through Babylon. He drew Jesus to the nails and the wood, and then into the grave, where no-one brings wife, or sons, or kinds, or fodder. He trolled Jesus through the grave and to the gloomy dungeons of the dead. He reeled Jesus from the tomb and up to the skies. Oh, how you do confound your ancient foe! His greatest triumph you have turned over to his roundest defeat. I took God's Lure, and He drew me through! No, Satan, through the grave you cannot follow me. Set out with your hordes and try to bind me! Pharaoh’s army got drownded.... Set out with your fires to consume! Set out with your lions to devour! My escape hatch is your prison wall. My release is your retribution! For though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil. Jesus walked here first. “Thy rod and thy staff, they comfort me.” He will never leave me.
God urged the Bride to come away. The Holy One came to fetch a bride for the Lamb. He raised his lamp to search for the one of God's choosing. See, how quiet her face? How trusting her eye? How lovely, her heart? Holy One to wash her. Holy One to clothe her. Holy One to lead her. Holy One to comfort her. She will leave everything to follow you, all for the promise of the Lamb.
Let my people go!
But Babylon has not acknowledged her defeat. Instead, she picked her way through the discounts at the market place.
"Ah," she said, "A gorgeous robe, fit for a Queen. I must have a robe to rule in." It was her shroud.
Let my people go!
Then she settled herself above the grazing flock and said, "Ah, meat. I must have meat." It was her abomination.
Let my people go!
Then she scrutinized the Word, and made out for herself liturgies and repetitions, saying, "Service! I must have service." It was her epitaph.
Let my people go!
Then she strode up and down the land, spreading her name through her liturgies and repetitions, declaring her sovereignty through her office, and receiving homage to herself because of her accouterments. It was her tombstone.
Come out of her, my people!
Oh, Babylon, while you were buttoning your coat,
The Ancient of Days was preparing clean white linen.
While you were wiping your mouth, He was preparing a table.
Babylon, while you wrote your epitaph,
The Holy One intoned in sighs too deep for words.
Messiah stood to intercede.
While you trod across the land,
Messiah was seated at the right hand of God.
While you garnered support,
He was crowned with many crowns.
While you received praise of men,
He received glory, honor, praise, and dominion
From the Almighty God; the Most High; the Eternal.
While you multiplied your bastard children, Babylon,
The God of Enoch chaperoned the Bride.
While you slept, Babylon, the God of Abraham covered the sheep.
While you counted your glittering tithes,
The God of Isaac caused the sheep to pass under the rod.
Now they are flocking to the Good Shepherd in strength,
And in peace, and what an exodus it is!
In a moment of time,
What you treated as common is spirited away,
Secretly---
The Kingdom of Heaven comes not with observation.
What you regarded in unbelief is lifted up and born away, an ark.
And where they go, you cannot follow!
The crest of their salvation is the grindstone of your retribution.
Beware, Babylon, the kings of men.
Apologetics
Apologetics
How can I argue the existence of God?
It is impossible to untwine from my own consciousness.
I am. But I am not alone.
From this point of understanding it all flows out in an unbending stream.
How can I argue this? Look around you!
Here is the earth. There, the sky. Beyond, the stars.
Outside that, God sits, looking over.
Inside this, God whispers, probing the heart.
The glory of God’s creative mind surrounds us on every side
Miracle after miracle of his creative genius--
Those few we have comprehended
And myriad more we have no inkling of.
And, as if the sheer weight of creation weren’t enough
You wrote down your word, many times, in many tongues.
Though you spoke it long ago, it still retains all its power-
It is after all creative
And you are the same yesterday, today, and tomorrow.
Truth to say, it has never failed.
Time passes--things wear out and wear down
People are born. They live and they die.
History rises and falls like the tide
But your word remains creative
Anyone who is willing to take you at your word
Can see we don’t need to argue this.
And, as if the witness of your word weren’t enough,
You came yourself to meet us.
Oh, I know, if a man argues the existence of God
Why will he accept your word?
If he will not accept your word
Why will he accept you yourself
As a man of your word? You came anyway to meet us.
No-one else ever did what you did or said what you said.
Who can argue that?
For myself, there is a presence and a belief
That no argument can destroy.
I am. And I am yours.
Your word retains its creative power in me.
You came yourself to meet me
And this truth will never pass away.
6/8/94 © Sidney Couch
How can I argue the existence of God?
It is impossible to untwine from my own consciousness.
I am. But I am not alone.
From this point of understanding it all flows out in an unbending stream.
How can I argue this? Look around you!
Here is the earth. There, the sky. Beyond, the stars.
Outside that, God sits, looking over.
Inside this, God whispers, probing the heart.
The glory of God’s creative mind surrounds us on every side
Miracle after miracle of his creative genius--
Those few we have comprehended
And myriad more we have no inkling of.
And, as if the sheer weight of creation weren’t enough
You wrote down your word, many times, in many tongues.
Though you spoke it long ago, it still retains all its power-
It is after all creative
And you are the same yesterday, today, and tomorrow.
Truth to say, it has never failed.
Time passes--things wear out and wear down
People are born. They live and they die.
History rises and falls like the tide
But your word remains creative
Anyone who is willing to take you at your word
Can see we don’t need to argue this.
And, as if the witness of your word weren’t enough,
You came yourself to meet us.
Oh, I know, if a man argues the existence of God
Why will he accept your word?
If he will not accept your word
Why will he accept you yourself
As a man of your word? You came anyway to meet us.
No-one else ever did what you did or said what you said.
Who can argue that?
For myself, there is a presence and a belief
That no argument can destroy.
I am. And I am yours.
Your word retains its creative power in me.
You came yourself to meet me
And this truth will never pass away.
6/8/94 © Sidney Couch
The Name of the Road
The Name of the Road 11/28/93
Some two thousand years ago
A road was opened
And you would think that a road so old would be known
You would think it would be known
Yes, it is a road still
I travel on it day by day, every day of my life
You and I, we each have a road that starts with our birth
And leads us through life,
And ends.
It ends at a grave.
But this road that I know, it was opened.
It starts with a birth as well,
And it leads us through life
But it does not end--
It has no end
The grave is not it's destination.
This road I know, it is the road that leads to home.
You would think that a road so old would be known
Especially because so many of us have no home
We wander homeless on wide roads leading everywhere
By the millions we wander
For the heart, in the end, wants only peace, and home.
At least, I can speak for my heart.
This hectic world, this road that began my life, what peace here?
This is not my home.
But the road that was opened some time ago,
This would I choose, and it is a road to this day.
So I travel on, sometimes so bone weary
That I would leave my bones behind;
Leave them on the road that leads to the grave
While I go on, unencumbered by the weight of the flesh.
I will tell you the name of this road,
For the Name is easy to remember.
The name of this road is Jesus.
You would think that a name so old would be known
Yes, it is a name reaching to this very day
I call Him, day by day, every day of my life
You and I, we each have a name that starts with our birth,
And who remembers it after we die? Is it buried like the bones
Does it stop, like the road to the grave?
This Jesus was given some two thousand years ago,
Given at a birth with great implication
Cursed on a tree with infamy
But the grave was not His destination.
And He who bore the Name did not have to leave His bones behind.
What seemed unbelievable to us was true.
A Road that leads to Life, unencumbered by the grave.
A man like us, who opened a door homeward that will not be shut.
It pleased God to dwell with us, in him whom the prophet called
Immanuel.
See, how the light plays on this Road? The shadow of the cross
It dances in the light of this Road
And the further down this Road I go, the brighter the light becomes
He is smiling at my heart, which is leaping like a fawn
Leaping!
For look, there,
There is Zion! Zion! My ancient home!
And Jesus,
The Way, the Truth, and the Life:
My everlasting home, my peace, and the Beloved of my heart
My delight
My eternal life!
Find this road. It is a better road.
©1993 Sidney Couch
Some two thousand years ago
A road was opened
And you would think that a road so old would be known
You would think it would be known
Yes, it is a road still
I travel on it day by day, every day of my life
You and I, we each have a road that starts with our birth
And leads us through life,
And ends.
It ends at a grave.
But this road that I know, it was opened.
It starts with a birth as well,
And it leads us through life
But it does not end--
It has no end
The grave is not it's destination.
This road I know, it is the road that leads to home.
You would think that a road so old would be known
Especially because so many of us have no home
We wander homeless on wide roads leading everywhere
By the millions we wander
For the heart, in the end, wants only peace, and home.
At least, I can speak for my heart.
This hectic world, this road that began my life, what peace here?
This is not my home.
But the road that was opened some time ago,
This would I choose, and it is a road to this day.
So I travel on, sometimes so bone weary
That I would leave my bones behind;
Leave them on the road that leads to the grave
While I go on, unencumbered by the weight of the flesh.
I will tell you the name of this road,
For the Name is easy to remember.
The name of this road is Jesus.
You would think that a name so old would be known
Yes, it is a name reaching to this very day
I call Him, day by day, every day of my life
You and I, we each have a name that starts with our birth,
And who remembers it after we die? Is it buried like the bones
Does it stop, like the road to the grave?
This Jesus was given some two thousand years ago,
Given at a birth with great implication
Cursed on a tree with infamy
But the grave was not His destination.
And He who bore the Name did not have to leave His bones behind.
What seemed unbelievable to us was true.
A Road that leads to Life, unencumbered by the grave.
A man like us, who opened a door homeward that will not be shut.
It pleased God to dwell with us, in him whom the prophet called
Immanuel.
See, how the light plays on this Road? The shadow of the cross
It dances in the light of this Road
And the further down this Road I go, the brighter the light becomes
He is smiling at my heart, which is leaping like a fawn
Leaping!
For look, there,
There is Zion! Zion! My ancient home!
And Jesus,
The Way, the Truth, and the Life:
My everlasting home, my peace, and the Beloved of my heart
My delight
My eternal life!
Find this road. It is a better road.
©1993 Sidney Couch
Bride's Dream
The Bride’s Dream 9/24/93
We have lived more nightmare than life--and the telling of it is more wounding than relief. Thank God for death, which puts an end to the trauma and the telling...
The most beautiful story I ever heard was of a king who came to his own, and, being ruled by stewards, they didn't know who he was. All that he did brought them safety. All that he said, brought them hope. And in the end of what was the most beautiful story to me, he died in their service, and it was mercy that brought an end to his telling and his trials. What an irony, that to me what was most beautiful must have been to him grief upon grief, and a relief for him to die.
All our trials end at the grave, and nothing of sorrow can enter the Light. All the wounding of this flesh, it ends at the grave, and nothing of defilement enters the Great Light. So great is his justice that his death became my own. This threadbare king loved me before my wounding and my sorrow and all my degradation, and he loved me as I lived through the nightmare, and he loved me as I died. And the greatest mercy of my killing was the lifting that came after the solace of the silence of the grave. He lifted me. And it was easy, because I was light. Nothing of the world could pass through the grave. Oh, what solace!
Friend, we live in a world, and there is evil present. There is one who came after the king, who covets all which belongs to the king. He desires you, who have given your heart to the king. The one who came after wants to usurp the king and lusts after his bride, is it not so? The passion of the usurper expresses itself in the degradation of the object of his lusts. But his power ends with the flesh. And the flesh ends with the grave. So here is my solace, dear friend. Close your eyes. Imagine your death. At some point, don't you go to sleep? What do you dream of? I will tell you my dream. More and more, I am dead to the world, and alive to the king......
Yes, I am a bride.
I am called a daughter of Eve by reason of birth,
And a child of Abraham by reason of faith,
For I believe as he believed--
In the Eternal, The Ancient of Days--
The I AM.
So it is credited to me, as to Abraham, as righteousness
Because I put my faith in El Shadai, and believe in His promise
Even unto death.
Now His promise was for a son to be born;
A miraculous birth; a child of promise--
Not of the will of man, nor the will of the flesh,
But the expression of the promising will Him who is God,
The High King,
The Eternal. The Ancient of Days
The I AM--
Supreme over all and alone worthy of all praise.
All this life that we see is the merest hint of His will....
And this promised Son, in Him does all good pleasure rest
The fullness of His brilliance
The wit and weight of His wisdom
The inevitability of His will
And in Him all the total of His great wide spirit
Requited and well comforted.
High and holy is He, this promised son--this peasant King
This steadfast shepherd, the one who walked among us!
This gentle nobleman whose wealth saw no displeasure in my rags
Whose great strength handled my plight like a cauled kitten.
By his name alone am I enjoined.
Have I shown thee my heart?
By reason of this faith, I am a child of Abraham
A child of promise, born to Him not by the will of man
Or by the will of the flesh
But by the kindness of the promising will of God.
So then, this God of Abraham, He has adopted me
For the purpose of promising me to the promised Son--
To enjoin me by the only name given to mankind
By which they may lay claim to life.
Now of myself, I am nothing.
I am of no account. I am least of all lovely.
My own blood is a mongrel mix fouled by folly
And I am not proud of my ancestors or their traditions,
For it was all shame.
The world has a purity it calls its own,
Of which it can be proud, to be certain
But to this pride I can lay no claim,
For my people have all been exiled or dispersed,
Or carried off into captivity
And who knows how this blood has been sullied and mixed?
I am without a heritage of my own--unloved--not a people--
And a king’s son seeking alliance would laugh my lineage to utter scorn!
Is it not a wonderful mystery?
You see, I will lose nothing, and gain everything
By being covered by this Peasant King’s blood.
I will become one with Him and His people,
And He and His people are a noble, holy race
Held in the memory back to the beginning by the Ancient of Days.
Seeing what I stand to gain,
Shall I not be quickly divested of my mother tongue
And loosed from my crude garb and victual?
Oh death, here is your victory: that I am released from all that!
The King will robe me all His own, and call me “Loved!”
By His defense I shall stand before Him.
By His kind word I am made new and clean.
By His unction will my presence be savory to Him
My life as greater than the best the world’s alter has to give
My soul won,
Deeper than all the language that my clan could pen
Fair and beloved King, yea! I will sacrifice myself to Your desire
And would that I become all You dream of me!
Aye, for it is love sustains this desire; that endures waiting;
That is patient beyond the very mind.
For I am at once immediate and eternal.
So do I wait for my time to come.
The signal between us has already been given, my friend,
The quiet keeper of my heart will know--
Which is why I am at the ready!
For He will suddenly come,
We will escape our waiting and elope away
Through silver and black velvet to His Father’s house.
So I wait for His cry, His whispered exclamation
For the glimmer of His horse’s white forelock
And soft thud of impatient hoof.
My acquaintances mock me
Because my loins are girt and I am ready,
Either to run or to ride.
Aye!
Shall he come and find me all tangled in fine clothes and glass slippers?
Nay!
But I will be ready
Either to run or to ride!
So now,
Go to your own fine banquet and dress ye then for your own dream!
But for mine, my dream is all for Him;
The Peasant King, the Great Shepherd,
The One who walked with us along the way
The very image of his own Father
There was never a robe could veil His heart;
Never so fine a handmade thing
Could outshine His visage
No indeed
But look,
Look upon His depth of face;
What could you give for that?
See how He is good? Look upon His callused hands;
Put a finger here, where was the nail.
How could you pay for their labor? What would be their wage?
Couldst thou give as Jesus gave?
There is none for it but thine own soul.
See how dear?
What can you compare?
There is nothing I would rather have,
Nothing you could give!
Yes, this flame in me burns hot and bright
And this love endures the waiting
With patience out of mind, and sighs beyond tongue,
And a weaning hope and a persevering faith
The world can only wonder at and shake her tinseled head.
9/24/93
We have lived more nightmare than life--and the telling of it is more wounding than relief. Thank God for death, which puts an end to the trauma and the telling...
The most beautiful story I ever heard was of a king who came to his own, and, being ruled by stewards, they didn't know who he was. All that he did brought them safety. All that he said, brought them hope. And in the end of what was the most beautiful story to me, he died in their service, and it was mercy that brought an end to his telling and his trials. What an irony, that to me what was most beautiful must have been to him grief upon grief, and a relief for him to die.
All our trials end at the grave, and nothing of sorrow can enter the Light. All the wounding of this flesh, it ends at the grave, and nothing of defilement enters the Great Light. So great is his justice that his death became my own. This threadbare king loved me before my wounding and my sorrow and all my degradation, and he loved me as I lived through the nightmare, and he loved me as I died. And the greatest mercy of my killing was the lifting that came after the solace of the silence of the grave. He lifted me. And it was easy, because I was light. Nothing of the world could pass through the grave. Oh, what solace!
Friend, we live in a world, and there is evil present. There is one who came after the king, who covets all which belongs to the king. He desires you, who have given your heart to the king. The one who came after wants to usurp the king and lusts after his bride, is it not so? The passion of the usurper expresses itself in the degradation of the object of his lusts. But his power ends with the flesh. And the flesh ends with the grave. So here is my solace, dear friend. Close your eyes. Imagine your death. At some point, don't you go to sleep? What do you dream of? I will tell you my dream. More and more, I am dead to the world, and alive to the king......
Yes, I am a bride.
I am called a daughter of Eve by reason of birth,
And a child of Abraham by reason of faith,
For I believe as he believed--
In the Eternal, The Ancient of Days--
The I AM.
So it is credited to me, as to Abraham, as righteousness
Because I put my faith in El Shadai, and believe in His promise
Even unto death.
Now His promise was for a son to be born;
A miraculous birth; a child of promise--
Not of the will of man, nor the will of the flesh,
But the expression of the promising will Him who is God,
The High King,
The Eternal. The Ancient of Days
The I AM--
Supreme over all and alone worthy of all praise.
All this life that we see is the merest hint of His will....
And this promised Son, in Him does all good pleasure rest
The fullness of His brilliance
The wit and weight of His wisdom
The inevitability of His will
And in Him all the total of His great wide spirit
Requited and well comforted.
High and holy is He, this promised son--this peasant King
This steadfast shepherd, the one who walked among us!
This gentle nobleman whose wealth saw no displeasure in my rags
Whose great strength handled my plight like a cauled kitten.
By his name alone am I enjoined.
Have I shown thee my heart?
By reason of this faith, I am a child of Abraham
A child of promise, born to Him not by the will of man
Or by the will of the flesh
But by the kindness of the promising will of God.
So then, this God of Abraham, He has adopted me
For the purpose of promising me to the promised Son--
To enjoin me by the only name given to mankind
By which they may lay claim to life.
Now of myself, I am nothing.
I am of no account. I am least of all lovely.
My own blood is a mongrel mix fouled by folly
And I am not proud of my ancestors or their traditions,
For it was all shame.
The world has a purity it calls its own,
Of which it can be proud, to be certain
But to this pride I can lay no claim,
For my people have all been exiled or dispersed,
Or carried off into captivity
And who knows how this blood has been sullied and mixed?
I am without a heritage of my own--unloved--not a people--
And a king’s son seeking alliance would laugh my lineage to utter scorn!
Is it not a wonderful mystery?
You see, I will lose nothing, and gain everything
By being covered by this Peasant King’s blood.
I will become one with Him and His people,
And He and His people are a noble, holy race
Held in the memory back to the beginning by the Ancient of Days.
Seeing what I stand to gain,
Shall I not be quickly divested of my mother tongue
And loosed from my crude garb and victual?
Oh death, here is your victory: that I am released from all that!
The King will robe me all His own, and call me “Loved!”
By His defense I shall stand before Him.
By His kind word I am made new and clean.
By His unction will my presence be savory to Him
My life as greater than the best the world’s alter has to give
My soul won,
Deeper than all the language that my clan could pen
Fair and beloved King, yea! I will sacrifice myself to Your desire
And would that I become all You dream of me!
Aye, for it is love sustains this desire; that endures waiting;
That is patient beyond the very mind.
For I am at once immediate and eternal.
So do I wait for my time to come.
The signal between us has already been given, my friend,
The quiet keeper of my heart will know--
Which is why I am at the ready!
For He will suddenly come,
We will escape our waiting and elope away
Through silver and black velvet to His Father’s house.
So I wait for His cry, His whispered exclamation
For the glimmer of His horse’s white forelock
And soft thud of impatient hoof.
My acquaintances mock me
Because my loins are girt and I am ready,
Either to run or to ride.
Aye!
Shall he come and find me all tangled in fine clothes and glass slippers?
Nay!
But I will be ready
Either to run or to ride!
So now,
Go to your own fine banquet and dress ye then for your own dream!
But for mine, my dream is all for Him;
The Peasant King, the Great Shepherd,
The One who walked with us along the way
The very image of his own Father
There was never a robe could veil His heart;
Never so fine a handmade thing
Could outshine His visage
No indeed
But look,
Look upon His depth of face;
What could you give for that?
See how He is good? Look upon His callused hands;
Put a finger here, where was the nail.
How could you pay for their labor? What would be their wage?
Couldst thou give as Jesus gave?
There is none for it but thine own soul.
See how dear?
What can you compare?
There is nothing I would rather have,
Nothing you could give!
Yes, this flame in me burns hot and bright
And this love endures the waiting
With patience out of mind, and sighs beyond tongue,
And a weaning hope and a persevering faith
The world can only wonder at and shake her tinseled head.
9/24/93
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