Isn’t This Weird?

 

 

The king made a decree

Which his subject did contravene

And his kingdom waited expectantly

For the inevitable scene.

 

Depending on the offense

It could be a flogging or even death

But sometimes at the king’s discretion,

Incarceration might be best.

 

The punishment for this crime

Was a flogging in the public square

Which the old and decrepit subject

Was clearly unable to bear.

 

But the decree must be upheld

For it carried the seal of the king,

There was no way of escaping the flogging

Unless somebody stood in for him.

 

But surely, he would die

A death not befitting his crime

And this small matter of an injustice

Held the kingdom in a bind.

 

The king made one last call

For a family member or a friend

That would be willing to take the flogging

In place of old emaciated Ben.

 

Family members there were

But there was nary a single friend

Whereupon the king decided

To bring the matter to its end.

 

He stepped into the public square

In his hand was the royal strap,

He quickly stripped the clothes away

From off his kingly back.

Then turning to the offender, he said

For you I’ll take the flogging,

This took his subjects by surprise

As it was quite mind-boggling.

 

For the king had done no wrong

Yet this man’s punishment he took,

He, it was, that had made this law

And he played it by the book.

 

“The soul that sins it shall die”

This was the penalty God prescribed,

Eternal death was our just desert

And justice could not be denied.

 

 

Hence, walk Jesus up Calvary’s hill

His back was already laid bare,

Beaten, ridiculed and finally crucified

As to that cross he was nailed.

 

In giving His Son God gave himself

And became the sacrificial lamb,

And in this way His justice was served

In implementing salvation’s plan.

 

Isn’t this weird, I ask again,

That a king for His subjects would die,

Suffering under His own decree

That His justice would be satisfied?

 

It’s a thought that’s too deep for us

And hence, we consider it weird,

But only God could have done as much

That’s why none with Him compares.

 

 

Only God can satisfy His own justice

Concomitantly, not one of us could,

Hence, the offer of His Son for you and me

On that rugged cross of wood.

 

Stewart Russell © November 18, 2020

Isn’t This Weird?

 

The king made a decree

Which his subject did contravene

And his kingdom waited expectantly

For the inevitable scene.

 

Depending on the offense

It could be a flogging or even death

But sometimes at the king’s discretion,

Incarceration might be best.

 

The punishment for this crime

Was a flogging in the public square

Which the old and decrepit subject

Was clearly unable to bear.

 

 

But the decree must be upheld

For it carried the seal of the king,

There was no way of escaping the flogging

Unless somebody stood in for him.

 

But surely, he would die

A death not befitting his crime

And this small matter of an injustice

Held the kingdom in a bind.

 

The king made one last call

For a family member or a friend

That would be willing to take the flogging

In place of old emaciated Ben.

 

Family members there were

But there was nary a single friend

Whereupon the king decided

To bring the matter to its end.

 

 

He stepped into the public square

In his hand was the royal strap,

He quickly stripped the clothes away

From off his kingly back.

  

Then turning to the offender, he said

For you I’ll take the flogging,

This took his subjects by surprise

As it was quite mind-boggling.

 

For the king had done no wrong

Yet this man’s punishment he took,

He, it was, that had made this law

And he played it by the book.

 

“The soul that sins it shall die”

This was the penalty God prescribed,

Eternal death was our just desert

And justice could not be denied.

 

 

Hence, walk Jesus up Calvary’s hill

His back was already laid bare,

Beaten, ridiculed and finally crucified

As to that cross he was nailed.

 

In giving His Son God gave himself

And became the sacrificial lamb,

And in this way His justice was served

In implementing salvation’s plan.

 

Isn’t this weird, I ask again,

That a king for His subjects would die,

Suffering under His own decree

That His justice would be satisfied?

 

 

It’s a thought that’s too deep for us

And hence, we consider it weird,

But only God could have done as much

That’s why none with Him compares.

 

Only God can satisfy His own justice

Concomitantly, not one of us could,

Hence, the offer of His Son for you and me

On that rugged cross of wood.

 

Stewart Russell © November 18, 2020

 

My Closeup View

There was a difference about him

Even as he hung there,

In spite of His discomfort

He still seemed to say, I care.

How could it be possible

That a man in such pain and anguish

Could think of anything other

Than a selfish wish?

A wish to be set free

Even if that escape route was death,

To be freed from this anguish

And enter the folds of sweet rest.

That was certainly my wish

And the wish of the other

But this man, O he was different,

His was another matter.

We were concerned with the now

But he looked to the future,

We were concerned with the me

But he saw a bigger picture.

His agony was obvious

But his words seemed unrelated,

It was though he were free

And his tormentors incarcerated.

“Father, forgive them,” he cried,

This got home to me,

This man was truly different

That I could definitely see.

He would have to be

To have uttered such a cry,

He was in a different frame of mind

Though we all were destined to die.

  

All around they mocked him

Even the other malefactor,

This man had done nothing wrong

But we both were transgressors.

Suddenly I saw my opportunity

And I grasped it with both hands,

I called out, not in desperation,

But in accordance with his plan.

I rebuked the other malefactor

Then confessed we had sinned,

Then I focused right on Jesus

And I said these words to him.

“Lord, remember me,” I cried,

“When you come into your kingdom.”

That day I was promised paradise

By God’s begotten Son.

Shortly after, all was dark

But I beheld a glorious light,

It was the light of sins forgiven

That instant my heart was right.

I heard the centurion confess

He was a righteous man,

I could not agree with him more

He was the sacrificial Lamb.

For a crime he did not die

But for a wretched soul like me,

It was I who had done him wrong

But yet he sealed my destiny.

Not death, the wages of my sin,

But life he freely gave,

In the closing moments of my life

He saved this worthless knave.

Mine was a closeup view

Just like those beneath his cross,

So was my fellow scoundrel

But yet he ended up lost.

To have been that close to Jesus

And yet reject his call

Is like having everything in life

And then to lose it all.

This need not be your lot today,

He beckons with outstretched arms

Bidding all to come to him

In the midst of their alarms.

So, follow my example,

I am one of the malefactors,

Run to Jesus this very moment,

Invite him to be your Saviour.

Stewart Russell © April 2020