mattfivefour
September 23rd, 2007, 08:54 PM
A few years ago I read a couplet by William Penn. He had written it while in a prison for his faith -- in London, England in 1668. The two lines read:
"No pain, no palm; no thorns, no throne;
No gall, no glory; no Cross, no Crown."
As I read those lines, the Holy Spirit moved upon me to write the following poem, entitled:
The Path & the Promise
Promise me not a life of gain,
Of earthly pleasure, free from pain.
Of fulsome praise, applause of men,
No hurt, no care, the world a friend.
That’s not the path our Master trod,
The Heav’nly Lamb, the Son of God,
Who came to save us from our sin,
To ope Heaven’s gates and bid us in
To whom were barred those gates of pearl.
But now we march, His flag unfurled
In Triumph, down through history.
Yet, not in earthly victory
Go we, for in man’s sight we’re weak,
Their eyes can’t see the goal we seek.
They scorn the drab, gray badger skin
For they can’t see the pow’r within:
Meekness, goodness, gentleness, love;
Such glorious gifts born from above.
Man looks without, at riches, fame,
At selfish goals and self-made name.
But we, by new life in the Cross,
Have turned our backs on all that dross
And look to Him who is our Guide,
Who walked this earth, was tempted, tried,
Mocked, rejected, sent to die
By those He came to sanctify.
His beard they plucked, His face they marred;
Where now the glory of the Star
Of Bethlehem that marked His birth?
Proclaimed Him Saviour of the earth?
That glorious moment long had passed.
“So you’re a king?” the mockers asked.
The Master heard the scorner’s tongue,
His back the wicked’s lashes stung.
Bruised, torn, in carnal eyes
He failed. But had they only realized
That self His Kingdom can’t inherit,
Eternal life flesh cannot merit;
That what to man seems meek, seems weak,
Is what the Spirit bids us seek.
His Kingdom was not of this world,
Nor should ours be! The challenged hurled
Is “Follow Me. Walk in My Word.
Obey the teachings you have heard.
Make no provision for the flesh.
And if you fail, commit afresh.”
For the race we run’s not won by might,
By pow’r or riches in God’s sight.
It’s won by those who overcome.
The crown is theirs for whom the sum
Of God’s teaching is their guide.
And in the end, like fine gold tried,
Have stood the test, have made it through,
And found God’s promises stand true:
Eternal peace, eternal home,
Eternal life before God’s throne.
So tell me not of worldly gain,
Of earthly pleasure, free from pain.
That’s not the path our Saviour trod,
Th’Eternal One, the Son of God.
Despised, rejected, filled with pain,
He blazed the trail, He made it plain:
The victor’s palm comes at a cost:
By choice it’s won—by choice it’s lost.
No pain, no palm; no thorns, no throne;
No gall, no glory; no Cross, no Crown.
"No pain, no palm; no thorns, no throne;
No gall, no glory; no Cross, no Crown."
As I read those lines, the Holy Spirit moved upon me to write the following poem, entitled:
The Path & the Promise
Promise me not a life of gain,
Of earthly pleasure, free from pain.
Of fulsome praise, applause of men,
No hurt, no care, the world a friend.
That’s not the path our Master trod,
The Heav’nly Lamb, the Son of God,
Who came to save us from our sin,
To ope Heaven’s gates and bid us in
To whom were barred those gates of pearl.
But now we march, His flag unfurled
In Triumph, down through history.
Yet, not in earthly victory
Go we, for in man’s sight we’re weak,
Their eyes can’t see the goal we seek.
They scorn the drab, gray badger skin
For they can’t see the pow’r within:
Meekness, goodness, gentleness, love;
Such glorious gifts born from above.
Man looks without, at riches, fame,
At selfish goals and self-made name.
But we, by new life in the Cross,
Have turned our backs on all that dross
And look to Him who is our Guide,
Who walked this earth, was tempted, tried,
Mocked, rejected, sent to die
By those He came to sanctify.
His beard they plucked, His face they marred;
Where now the glory of the Star
Of Bethlehem that marked His birth?
Proclaimed Him Saviour of the earth?
That glorious moment long had passed.
“So you’re a king?” the mockers asked.
The Master heard the scorner’s tongue,
His back the wicked’s lashes stung.
Bruised, torn, in carnal eyes
He failed. But had they only realized
That self His Kingdom can’t inherit,
Eternal life flesh cannot merit;
That what to man seems meek, seems weak,
Is what the Spirit bids us seek.
His Kingdom was not of this world,
Nor should ours be! The challenged hurled
Is “Follow Me. Walk in My Word.
Obey the teachings you have heard.
Make no provision for the flesh.
And if you fail, commit afresh.”
For the race we run’s not won by might,
By pow’r or riches in God’s sight.
It’s won by those who overcome.
The crown is theirs for whom the sum
Of God’s teaching is their guide.
And in the end, like fine gold tried,
Have stood the test, have made it through,
And found God’s promises stand true:
Eternal peace, eternal home,
Eternal life before God’s throne.
So tell me not of worldly gain,
Of earthly pleasure, free from pain.
That’s not the path our Saviour trod,
Th’Eternal One, the Son of God.
Despised, rejected, filled with pain,
He blazed the trail, He made it plain:
The victor’s palm comes at a cost:
By choice it’s won—by choice it’s lost.
No pain, no palm; no thorns, no throne;
No gall, no glory; no Cross, no Crown.