by Jason Sturdee
An urgent knock beat repeatedly, on my front door,
Then the door flung open, the one I was trying to ignore.
A friend stood before me, expectation on his face,
“We’ve found the Messiah, let me show you the place!”
A Messiah here, a Messiah there, I’d heard it said, I just didn’t care,
He’s out in the desert, He’s beside the shore,
He’s in the upper room right now,
I’d heard it before.
Now the people are expecting a saviour one day,
A deliverer from Rome, that’s what we all pray,
Yeah I wish it would happen, I had believed in my head,
But I’ve turned into a cynic, and my hope is long dead.
Lack of enthusiasm didn’t deter my good friend,
He was quite determined, he just wouldn’t bend,
He threw me my sandals, my belt and my cloak,
Through the countryside he dragged me, it wasn’t a joke.
I had no expectations of what I would see,
Perhaps a small gathering, not much more than three.
But upon our arrival, I’d absorbed the huge crowd,
The only word I could utter, was “strewth”, out loud.
A local man stood before them, with no bearing of pride,
No clothes of rank or privilege, no pompousness in stride.
Nor adorned with fancy women, or powerful men, that one could see,
He looked like a common labourer, well, a person much like me.
I’ve attended many lectures, debates and verbal brawls,
Academics using six syllable words to point out another’s flaws.
Their tongues like twin edged sabres, they’d block, parry, spar and thrust,
A form of great entertainment worth seeing, you surely must.
This new man on front stage, he talked so differently, it’s true,
Those who tried to shout him down, his answers ran them through.
Prestigious men of influence, couldn’t trick him or ensnare,
Eventually they stopped trying, but their looks warn him, to beware.
Not only the fights with leaders, that set the man apart.
Sometimes he spoke in riddles, but you could not deny his heart.
He spoke with authority and power, and got known throughout the land,
But to me, the man was a mystery, who I just didn’t understand.
Let me tell you of his miracles, words can’t fully, convey the show,
People were healed, i mean really healed, that everyone did know.
The Pharisees and leaders, said “it’s devils power”, that he used,
But the way he touched, the sick and sad. it’s only tenderness, that he oozed.
Even here, in these mighty acts, he used no formula, or set phrase,
He seemed to delight in variety, left the audience in a daze.
Go show yourself to the priests, another, healed by his word, but not close,
Once he placed, mud pies in eyes, which frankly, I thought gross.
One event, stood out from all, witnessed, with my own eyes,
The teachers friend, had been dead four days, we heard the mourners cries.
He asked the tomb to be opened, what would happen, I had no doubt,
The man they call the Messiah, yelled “Lazarus, come out!”
To raise a man from the dead, is not common, 50 I heard,
The fact that this man Jesus, did it simply, with his word
I no longer thought him crazy, or his followers, as such,
I honestly can’t deny the truth, cause I’d really seen too much.
The miracles and the speeches, broke down barriers, in my mind,
To deny his deity, would be, to act if I were blind.
But of all the things, I’ve seen him do, one thing touched me, to the core,
It’s the way that he loves others, with kindness, it’s his nature I adore.
Now I’m sure you know what happened next, his betrayal and the cross,
When we saw, the hard way he died, we weren’t coping with the loss.
On the third day, when we saw him alive, our feelings, difficult to explain,
We were bubbling over, Jesus had risen, he removed that terrible pain.
Much time has passed, since those days, but we’ll never forget God’s son,
The sacrifice that he’s given, the commitment to get the job done.
We come together, with our family and friends, to remember what he achieved,
We’ll break the bread, we’ll share the wine, and thank Christ Jesus, for what we received.