Come, O Lord; come quickly:
Tear the skies apart.
Shadows here lie thickly:
Drive away the dark.
Come in all your glory;
come ascend your throne.
Finish now the story
whose end is yours alone.
Come, O Lord, with judgment:
Come to set things right.
Bring at last your justice;
end oppression's might.
Come and show us clearly
where we must atone.
Make your wounds a mirror
of all we've done and known.
Come, O Lord, with mercy:
Let its rivers run
through our desert thristing,
gleaming as the sun.
Let our barrens blossom
as once Eden bloomed.
Come, restore your garden,
and oh, come soon! Come soon!
After all the world's unravelling,
lo! we shall be knit again.
Dust that once from stars came travelling
with a brighter light shall shine.
Soul and body, joined together,
joy that never more they'll part,
but with angel choirs forever
shall rejoice the Savior's heart.
Christ, who took the flesh he gave us,
that same flesh he will renew.
He who knows our bodies' fading
all their deaths he shall undo.
Every tear drawn from our sorrow
he shall wipe from new-woke eyes
in his ever-dawning morrow,
when from every grave we rise.
Bone and sinew, skin and muscle:
hands remade we lift to him.
Long-stilled hearts begin to thunder
with the rhythm of our hymn.
Breath that we had held for ages
now at last begins to sing:
Vocal chords form heaven's praises.
We shall welcome Christ our King!
When did we see you, Lord?
When did you meet our eye?
Our echoes fill the weeping world;
when did we hear you cry?
We passed our days in care
with many things to do.
Who came to help our burdens bear?
Where, Lord above, were you?
Right here in all the least.
Your hands reach out in theirs,
and as we hope to share your feast,
we bear the selfsame cares:
to find our daily bread
and quench our endless thirst,
for all, like you, have wept and bled,
the best and, too, the worst.
Oh, savior, help us see
yourself in everyone,
for we your hands on earth must be
to serve God's only Son.
And when you come again,
your glory let us see,
who was and is among us men,
and evermore shall be.
To the tune STUTTGART (“Come, Thou Long Expected Jesus”):
On the day of wrath forthcoming,
at the righteous throne of Christ,
all will rise to meet the summons
of the Lamb once sacrificed.
Thrones before his throne are fallen,
powers powerless to rise.
Come we must who hear him calling,
he who hears the downcast's cries.
They will rise, the world's downtrodden;
they will speak who have no voice.
Entered in where Christ has bidden,
comforted they will rejoice.
Condemnation shall they utter
who forsook their evil ways,
seeking, finding, foll'wing better
not for any earthly praise.
They will feast, whose thirst and hunger
led them rightly on the road.
Those instead who yearned for plunder
sink unsated 'neath their load.
Wailing, gnashing teeth, forsaken
shall they be who turned from grace.
Now, before all earth is shaken,
turn again to seek Christ's face.
The Last Judgment, 1904 By Viktor Mikhailovich Vasnetsov – Scanned from A. K. Lazuko Victor Vasnetsov, Leningrad: Khudozhnik RSFSR, 1990, ISBN 5-7370-0107-5http://goskatalog.ru/portal/#/collections?id=1487274http://vm1.culture.ru/arkhitekturnyy_ansambl_gus_khrustalnyy/catalog/small/0000200150/, Public Domain, https://commons.wikimedia.org/w/index.php?curid=215958
To the tune of “Of the Father’s Love Begotten,” a paraphrase of Psalm 97:
Clouds and shadow hover 'round him;
right and justice form his throne.
Fire and lightning go before him,
all his foes with dread consume.
God is king and earth must praise him,
even in the day of doom,
praise him, praise him evermore.
Earth shall feel his steps and tremble;
mountains, molten wax, shall run.
Live and dead shall all assemble
at the shining of his sun.
All the world becomes his temple;
other gods bow down as one,
praise him, praise him evermore.
All who worship wealth and power,
all who claim supremacy,
they shall crumble in God's hour
when his glory bright they see.
Then shall all the princes cower;
then shall prisoners go free,
praise him, praise him evermore.
At the dawning of God's justice,
gladness for the upright hearts,
all receive his mercy's judgment,
take the grace that he imparts.
Loving spirits then exulted
as the endless blessing starts
praise him, praise him evermore.
Kate Bluett 