A King Who Leads No Armies

Jesus answered, “My kingdom does not belong to this world.
If my kingdom did belong to this world,
my attendants would be fighting
to keep me from being handed over to the Jews.
But as it is, my kingdom is not here.”
—John 18:33b-37

He comes, a thief in darkness,
the king who tells no lies,
as tender as we're hardened;
his truth shall fill the skies.

He comes, the sun of justice
to right our wrongful ways.
He comes, the one who loves us.
He comes to buy the slaves

and seat them over princes,
above the highest lords,
to judge and save us sinners,
and he shall be adored.

He once before came helpless 
upon the earth he moves—
almighty God defenseless,
a lamb to save the wolves.

He comes now to disarm us
of whips and nails and thorns;
a king who leads no armies
tills gardens with our swords.

He comes to heal the broken;
he comes to break the chains,
and all the world waits for him—
Come, Lord, do not delay!

St. Catherine’s Monastery, Mount Sinai, Egypt, Photo By carulmare – https://www.flickr.com/photos/8545333@N07/4124982761/, CC BY 2.0, https://commons.wikimedia.org/w/index.php?curid=30366875

Already Drawing Near

Though no one can say when it's coming,
for no one can see it appear,
the kingdom of God is among us.
The savior already draws near.

He hungers in all of the hungry;
in every dry throat does he thirst,
and all that we do is done to him.
In all of our wounds he is hurt.

But we have not learned how to see him—
O come, Son of Man, touch our eyes
to know you in all that we meet here.
O wisdom of God, make us wise

to weep with your children in sorrow,
to shelter your flock from the cold.
O dawn from on high, break our darkness
and light the way into your fold.

For there you will set a great table
and call us all into the feast—
but here let us feed you, O Savior,
yourself in the last and the least.

And thus, we will learn how to hear you:
O David's Son, lift up your voice
to heal us and let us draw near you.
Lord, shepherd us into your joy!

The Sarcophagus of Marcus Claudianus (ca. 330-335, Palazzo Massimo, Rome): Detail, a harvester. The figure directly to the left of the decedent’s portrait is a man harvesting wheat. Paired with the vintage on the right, this is possibly a Eucharistic reference. Photo By Dick Stracke – Own work, CC BY-SA 3.0, https://commons.wikimedia.org/w/index.php?curid=31956395

Fig Tree

Learn a lesson from the fig tree.
When its branch becomes tender and sprouts leaves,
you know that summer is near.
In the same way, when you see these things happening,
know that he is near, at the gates.
Amen, I say to you,
this generation will not pass away
until all these things have taken place.
Heaven and earth will pass away,
but my words will not pass away.
–Mark 13:24-32

There will be days of trial and tribulation:
The sun will hide; the moon will shine no more.
The princes and the pow'rs will all be shaken,
and they will see the coming of the Lord.

Come, learn to read the wonders of the heavens,
the times and seasons ticking through the year.
For those with eyes to see, they are a message:
The days roll on, and Christ is drawing near.

Oh, let it be the lesson of the fig tree,
that summer comes and all the earth turns ripe,
the bud and blossom growing out of myst'ry,
the slow beginning of the fruit of life.

We wait the rising of the sun of justice;
the bride keeps vigil 'til she sees her groom.
With hope and fear we wait the coming judgment
to see the deserts bursting into bloom.

O, give us courage, Lord, to stand before you,
and strengthen us to make a level way
where all may journey safely to adore you,
and give us patience while we wait for day.

Trew, C.J., Plantae selectae quarum imagines ad exemplaria naturalia Londini, in hortis curiosorum nutrit, vol. 8: t. 73 (1771) [G.D. Ehret] – http://plantillustrations.org/illustration.php?id_illustration=58571&language=English, Public Domain, https://commons.wikimedia.org/w/index.php?curid=22318968

When You Return

When you return, O God,
O brighter than our sun,
to reckon all our rights and wrong,
our done and left undone,

there at the end of time
when at your feet I stand,
oh, take the oceans of my crimes
and pour them through your hands.

The words I should not say,
the swords I should not wield,
pour in and let them drain away
through mercy's wounds unhealed.

For I am sunk in them
who cannot walk their waves.
They seep out through your innocence
'til all that's left is grace.

As deep as I have drowned,
raise me and let me stand.
The millstone ropes at last unwound,
let me rest on dry land.

And see: My sins are gone
and you alone remain.
Now fill me with the light of dawn
and make me new again!

Gospel Book, Second Coming of Christ, Walters Manuscript W.540, fol. 14v. This manuscript was executed in 1475 by a scribe identified as Aristakes, for a priest named Hakob. It contains a series of 16 images on the life of Christ preceding the text of the gospels, as well as the traditional evangelist portraits, and there are marginal illustrations throughout. The style of the miniatures, which employ brilliant colors and emphasize decorative patterns, is characteristic of manuscript production in the region around Lake Van during the 15th century. By Walters Art Museum Illuminated Manuscripts – https://www.flickr.com/photos/39699193@N03/8509826031/, CC0, https://commons.wikimedia.org/w/index.php?curid=76790938

Seat of Grace

Brothers and sisters:
Since we have a great high priest who has passed through the heavens,
Jesus, the Son of God,
let us hold fast to our confession.
For we do not have a high priest
who is unable to sympathize with our weaknesses,
but one who has similarly been tested in every way,
yet without sin.
So let us confidently approach the throne of grace
to receive mercy and to find grace for timely help.
—Hebrews 4:14-16

When you appear before us
and all has been made known,
shall we approach your glory
and kneel before your throne?
So now while you are hidden
we still seek out your face;
we know you welcome sinners
there at the seat of grace.

No kings sit at your right hand,
no princes at your left:
The throng who in your sight stand
were servants of the rest.
And you, O Lord, uphold them—
so we would be upheld.
Until we can behold you,
grant us your timely help!

To love you in our service,
and love our neighbor, too,
to know the gift of mercy—
and always to know you.
So we bring all our weakness,
our sorrow, and our sin
and seek our great high priest here:
O, bid us enter in!

How Hard It Is

Jesus looked around and said to his disciples,
“How hard it is for those who have wealth
to enter the kingdom of God!”
The disciples were amazed at his words.
So Jesus again said to them in reply,
“Children, how hard it is to enter the kingdom of God!
It is easier for a camel to pass through the eye of a needle
than for one who is rich to enter the kingdom of God.”
They were exceedingly astonished and said among themselves,
“Then who can be saved?”
Jesus looked at them and said,
“For human beings it is impossible, but not for God.
All things are possible for God.”
—Mark 10:17-27

How hard it is to enter in God's kingdom:
Sell all you have and bid your world goodbye.
So camels thread the slim eye of the needle
before the rich can claim a place on high.
But heaven calls, and only this is needful:
to give your all and follow after Christ.

What is the price your savior now is asking?
You gold and gems, your lavish gifts displayed?
No, but your heart poured out in prayer and action:
This is the gift your offer day by day.
Not faith alone or keeping each commandment,
but love itself: This is the narrow way.

For gold will dim, and silver coins will tarnish.
All swords will rust except God's holy word—
a living edge that parts the joints and marrow
to lay us bare before the eye of God.
So whittled down, we pass with room to spare then:
The needle grows; the narrow gate is broad.

And all we've lost, and all we've gladly given
shall be restored in Spirit and in truth.
All we forgave as we have been forgiven—
that mercy shown our own hearts will renew,
will heal our eyes that we may share the vision
of God's great love, while Christ makes all things new.

About The Rich, O discontented mancan ever be rich. The golden calfnever grows into acow that gives milk. The devil comes to the wedding when•-;ople marry for money. God has never made gold enough tomake a selfish man rich. On Gods scales a poor mans best and« rich mans best balance each other. Some people will sell their souls verycheap for the prospect of quick payment. Success in this world often means fail-ure in the next. What do you suppose angels think ofthe man who is doing his best to die rich? We are not in a condition to enjoyriches until we can be happy withoutthem. They know in heaven how much relig-ion the rich have by the way they treatthe poor. It is seldom that a man ever gets to bewise enough to know what to do with alarge fortune- IBy Frank Beard – https://www.flickr.com/photos/internetarchivebookimages/14597788930/Source book page: https://archive.org/stream/blastsfromramsho00unse/blastsfromramsho00unse#page/n19/mode/1up, No restrictions, https://commons.wikimedia.org/w/index.php?curid=44080771

Warp and Weft

And at your name all knees will bend,
all heads will bow to bear your yoke.
O, lay it gently on us then!
Your mercy, Lord, is all my hope,

for all you trusted to my hands,
the blessings on my head you poured,
my hans have twisted from their ends,
my thoughts have beaten into swords.

So when your judgment comes, O Christ,
how will you reckon all I've done,
the broken endings I have spliced
to all the graces you had spun?

Still bend my shoulders to your yoke
as you bent yours to humankind's:
So you restore the things I broke 
and pour again your new-made wine.

Still reach your hands out right and left:
No weaver, but a carpenter,
when you stretch out the warp and weft
my crooked ways run straight and sure,

for in your work my work is good.
Your wounded hands hold all my ends
and turn them as I never could
'til swords are plowshares once again.

Weaver, Nearer an Open Windows By Vincent van Gogh – Copied from an art book, Public Domain, https://commons.wikimedia.org/w/index.php?curid=9108043