How Long, O God?
When wilt Thou save the people? O God of mercy, when? The people, Lord, the people, Not thrones and crowns, but men! Flowers of Thy heart, O God, are they. Let them not pass, like weeds, away -- Their heritage a sunless day. God save the people! Shall crime bring crime forever, Strength aiding still the strong? Is it Thy will, O Father, That man shall toil for wrong?		"No," say Thy mountains; "No," Thy skies; Man's clouded sun shall brightly rise, And songs be heard instead of sighs. God save the people! When wilt Thou save the people? O God of mercy, when? The people, Lord, the people, Not thrones and crowns, but men! God save the people; Thine they are, Thy children, as Thy angels fair; From vice, oppression, and despair, God save the people! "When Wilt Thou Save the People?" by Ebenezer Elliot
How long, O LORD, must I call for help, But you do not listen? Or cry out to you, "Violence!" But you do not save? Why do you make me look at injustice? Why do you tolerate wrong? Destruction and violence are before me. There is strife, and conflict abounds. Therefore the law is paralyzed, And justice never prevails. The wicked hem in the righteous, So that justice is perverted. Hab 1.2-4		(And Jesus said...) He who is unjust, let him be unjust still. He who is filthy, let him be filthy still. He who is righteous, let him be righteous still. He who is holy, let him be holy still. Behold, I am coming quickly! My reward is with Me, To give to every one according to his work. I am the Alpha and the Omega, The Beginning and the End, The First and the Last. Surely I AM coming quickly! Amen. Even so, come, Lord Jesus! Rev 22.11-13, 22.20

Who Will Lend to God?
The little toy dog is covered with dust, But sturdy and staunch he stands; And the little toy soldier is red with rust, And his musket molds in his hands. Time was when the little toy dog was new And the soldier was passing fair, And that was the time when our Little Boy Blue Kissed them and put them there. "Now don't you go till I come," he said, "And don't you make any noise!" So toddling off to his trundle bed He dreamed of the pretty toys.		And as he was dreaming, an angel song Awakened our Little Boy Blue, -- Oh, the years are many, the years are long, But the little toy friends are true. Aye, faithful to Little Boy Blue they stand, Each in the same old place, Awaiting the touch of a little hand, The smile of a little face. And they wonder, as waiting these long years through, In the dust of that little chair, What has become of our Little Boy Blue Since he kissed them and put them there. "Little Boy Blue" by Eugene Field
Did this poem touch your heart? Then know this: There's a "Little Child Blue" just a few blocks away from each of us. That child will die tonight -- of hunger, or neglect, or curable disease. What would God have us do, I wonder?		He who has pity on the poor lends to the LORD, and He will pay back what he has given. Prov 19.17 Whoever shuts his ears to the cry of the poor will also cry himself and not be heard. Prov 21.13

Not My Will, but Thine
Batter my heart, three personed God; for you As yet but knock, breathe, shine, and seek to mend; That I may rise and stand, o'erthrow me and bend Your force to break, blow, burn and make me new. I, like a usurped town, to another due, Labor to admit You, but Oh, to no end; Reason, Your viceroy in me, me should defend, But is captived and proves weak or untrue. Yet dearly I love You and would be loved fain, But am betrothed unto Your enemy. Divorce me, untie or break that knot again. Take me to You, imprison me, for I Except You enthrall me, never shall be free, Nor ever chaste, except You ravish me. "Batter My Heart" by John Donne		(And God said...) I will sprinkle clean water on you, and you shall be clean. I will cleanse you from all your filthiness and all your idols. I will give you a new heart and put a new spirit within you. I will take the heart of stone out of your flesh, And give you a heart of flesh. I will put My Spirit within you, And cause you to walk in My statutes. And you will keep My judgments and do them. Then you shall dwell in the land that I gave to your fathers. You shall be My people, and I will be your God. Ezekiel 36.25-28

Behold the Lamb!
Little Lamb, who made thee? Dost thou know who made thee? Gave thee life, and bid thee feed, By the stream and o'er the mead; Gave thee clothing of delight, Softest clothing, wooly, bright; Gave thee such a tender voice, Making all the vales rejoice? Little Lamb, who made thee? Dost thou know who made thee?		Little Lamb, I'll tell thee. Little Lamb, I'll tell thee: He is call'ed by thy name, For He calls Himself a Lamb. He is meek, and He is mild; He became a little child. I a child and thou a lamb, We are call'ed by His name. Little Lamb, God bless thee! Little Lamb, God bless thee! "The Lamb" by William Blake (1757-1827)
You were not redeemed with corruptible things, Like silver or gold, But with the precious blood of Christ, As of a Lamb without blemish and without spot. 1 Pet 1.18a, 1.19		He was oppressed and He was afflicted, Yet He opened not His mouth. He was led as a Lamb to the slaughter, And as a sheep before its shearers is silent, So He opened not His mouth. Isa 53.7
But He was wounded for our transgressions; He was bruised for our iniquities. The chastisement for our peace was upon Him, And by His stripes we are healed. Isa 53.5

The Priceless Gift is... Price-less!
Earth gets it price for what Earth gives us. The beggar is taxed for a corner to die in. The priest hath his fee who comes and shrives us. We bargain for the graves we lie in. At the Devil's booth are all things sold, Each ounce of dross costs its ounce of gold. For a cap and a bell our lives we pay, Bubbles we buy with a whole soul's tasking. 'Tis heaven alone that is given away, 'Tis only God may be had for the asking. From "The Vision of Sir Launfel" by James Russell Lowell		Ho! Everyone who thirsts, Come to the waters. And you who have no money, Come! Buy and eat! Yes, come buy wine and milk. Without money! Without price! Why do you spend money for what is not bread? Why waste your wages for what does not satisfy? Listen carefully unto Me. Eat what is good. Let your soul delight itself in abundance. Incline your ear, and come to Me. Hear, and your soul shall live! Isa 55.1-2
For by grace you have been saved through faith, And that not of yourselves; It is The Gift of God! ...not of works, lest anyone should boast. Eph 2.8-9

Ballad of the Goodly Fere

Each time I read the following poem it brings a lump to my throat. I think it will do the same for you. To understand its odd language, however, you need a bit of background. To wit: Most of us have heard of Simon called Peter, one of the Lord's 12 disciples. Fewer of us have heard of another Simon who was also one of the 12 -- a disciple called Simon the Zealot (Lk 6.15). The Zealots were a sect of Jews who refused to pay tribute to the Romans. They rebelled against the Romans, but were soon scattered, and became a band of brigands. Ezra Pound wrote the following poem by placing himself in the person of Simon the Zealot -- a rough and ready rebel who loved our Lord, and was one of His faithful 12 disciples and apostles. By the way, the word "Fere" means "mate, companion."

Simon Zelotes speaketh it somewhat after the Crucifixion... Ha' we lost the goodliest Fere o' all For the priests and the gallows tree? Aye lover He was of brawny men, O' ships and the open sea. When they came wi' a host to take our Man His smile was good to see, "First let these go!" quo' our Goodly Fere, "Or I'll see ye damned," says He. Aye He sent us out through the crossed high spears And the scorn of His laugh rang free, "Why took ye not me when I walked about Alone in the town?" says He. Oh we drunk His "Hale" in the good red wine When we last made company, No capon priest was the Goodly Fere But a Man o' men was He. I ha' seen Him drive a hundred men Wi' a bundle o' cords swung free, That they took the high and holy house For their pawn and treasury. They'll no' get Him a' in a book I think Though they write it cunningly; No mouse of the scrolls was the Goodly Fere But aye love the open sea. If they think they ha' snared our Goodly Fere They are fools to the last degree. "I'll go to the feast," quo' our Goodly Fere, "Though I go to the gallows tree." "Ye ha' seen me heal the lame and the blind, And wake the dead," says He, "Ye shall see one thing to master all: "Tis how a brave man dies on a tree." The Son of God was the Goodly Fere That bade us His brothers be. I ha' seen Him cow a thousand men. I have seen Him upon the tree. He cried no cry when they drave the nails And the blood gushed hot and free, The hounds of the crimson sky gave tongue But never a cry cried He. Like the sea that brooks no voyaging With the winds unleashed and free, Like the sea that He cowed at Genseret Wi' twey words spoke' suddently. A Master of men was the Goodly Fere, A Mate o' the wind and sea, If they think they ha' slain our Goodly Fere They are fools eternally. I ha' seen Him eat o' the honeycomb Since they nailed Him to the tree. "Ballad of the Goodly Fere," by Ezra Pound

But while they (the disciples) still did not believe for joy, and marveled, He (Jesus) said to them, "Have you any food here?'' So they gave Him a piece of a broiled fish and some honeycomb. And He took it and ate in their presence. Lk 24.41-43 Greater love has no one than this, than to lay down His life for His friends. John 15.13

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