Wednesday, March 31, 2010

He Is Alive

The King of life is dead,
Now droops His battered head,
And all who stood a-watching there
Saw them raise a final spear,
To wound again our precious Lord
As from Him blood and water poured,
And satisfied they proudly said,
“He is dead, He is dead”

The Sacrificial Lamb,
The perfect, great I AM,
As soldiers mock and laugh with glee
And cheer in ignorant victory,
There came a man with noble score
Judging by the robes he wore,
“You’ve done your part” he said, “Now mine,
Let me take His body down”

Dear God had thus prepared,
While most drew back in fear
Joseph of Armithea came
In spite of all the blood and shame
In love he gently pulls the nails
From the Hand that never fails,
The nails that hatred’s hands drove in
Were pulled by hands who loved the King

And tender arms drew ‘round
To gently lift Him down,
Amidst the darkness and the fear
They held His lifeless body near,
And Jesus bore the tears they shed
As they wept “Our King is dead”
And there within pre-Sabbath gloom
Joseph laid him in his tomb

Then as the soldiers slept
And His disciples wept,
As Judas flung his silver down
And hung himself outside of town,
As Pilate justified his choice
And tried to quell the inner voice
Heaven rings with angel cries
“He is alive, He is alive”
Pearly gates are swinging wide,
He is alive, He is alive

Janet Martin

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