Not of Merit but of Mercy

 

 

Not of merit but of mercy

Cannot be earned by you or me,

No payment is thus exacted

Yet in fact, ‘tis not free.

 

There I go a wandering

Amidst my conflicting spree,

Ah, but need I remind you again

Free did cost somebody?

 

Life eternal is costly

Though to the saved it’s free;

Costing Jesus every drop of blood

Shed on Mt Calvary.

 

How dare I try to earn

What’s been given free

Naught of merit but of mercy,

Offered by Christ to me?

 

‘Tis true, rewards of merit,

Must be dutifully earned

But to apply this to Jesus’ sacrifice,

Does God’s mercy spurn.

 

 

It is not gratefulness

And certainly not appreciation

To even think of trying to merit

The gift of salvation.

 

No amount of money

And no resumé of works

Can merit the kingdom of heaven;

Not even in the church.

 

While works can’t save

They accompany the saved

And testify of God’s saving power

Even beyond the grave.

 

Blessed are the dead

Which die in the Lord

That they may rest from their labours

And their works follow them.

 

Ephesians 2:4-7

 

But God, who is rich in mercy,

For his great love wherewith he loved us,

Even when we were dead in sins,

Hath quickened us together with Christ,

(By grace are ye saved;)

 

And have raised us up together,

And made us to sit together

In heavenly places in Christ Jesus:

 

That in the ages to come

He might show the exceeding riches

Of his grace in his kindness

Towards us through Christ Jesus.

 

 

Not of merit but of mercy

All that we have in Christ,

Any attempt to earn the Father’s love

Spurns the Son’s sacrifice!

 

Stewart Russell © June 5, 2025

 

If the Dead Could Talk

 

 

If only the dead could talk

What would they say?

Would it mean anything to us?

Would we change our way?

 

There’s a case in the Bible

With which we are au fait,

In which one begged for his brothers

From hell where he lay.

 

He was in fiery torment

And asked to warn his kin,

They were living wretched lives

And would end up like him.

 

They refused to listen

To the prophets of the day

And with ears nigh dysfunctional,

Went their own way.

 

If only the dead could talk

What would they say?

Would we listen to the departed

And change our way?

 

What about our parents?

What would they say?

Would they speak any differently

From back in their day?

 

What about our friends

Whom we loved so dearly?

Would we give a listening ear

And be really sorry?

 

Or, would we like many

Refuse to even listen

And join the ever-growing throng

Incarcerated in prison?

 

 

If only the dead could talk

They wouldn’t be dead

But like our blessed, risen Saviour

They’d be alive instead.

 

But the dead cannot talk,

Neither can they see

Thus, while life is yours today,

Be the best you can be.

 

Talk to an errant one today

To set his path straight,

To express his trust in Jesus Christ

And to love and not hate.

 

For there’s life after death

But only to the saved,

Meaning the born-again believer

Who from sin was raised.

Stewart Russell © April 8, 2025

The Garment

 

 

I walked through town

Looking for a garment to wear,

I searched up and down

I looked everywhere.

 

I had a vague idea

What it should look like,

Not something of worldly show

But reflecting the light.

 

I knew that the pattern

Was out of this world

So, I visited the upscale stores

Of which I’d heard.

 

Broad Street, for example,

Where those stores were,

Definitely not the other streets

Were preferred.

 

I searched up and down

And nothing seemed to fit,

After a considerable time searching

I thought to quit.

 

That garment was not seen

In any of those stores

Though I searched and searched

And searched even more.

 

But in my earnestness

I heard a calming voice,

“But you know my precious one

There’s another choice.

 

I covertly looked around

But I saw no one,

It was then it struck me of a place

I had not gone.

 

It was not a store

And surely not Broad Street

But a place from whence that one

I had heard speak.

 

But what did he mean

Regarding another choice

And who was the actual speaker

Behind the voice.

 

I came to understand

That it was Jesus Christ

And that not any or every garment

Would suffice.

 

 

But a garment of white

Which he himself supplied

And a garment that would be worn

All the while.

 

Clothed in righteousness

As we walk by faith,

The white signifying Christ’s purity

Compliments God’s grace.

 

No longer a vague idea

What it should look like,

But rather, that garment of white

Reflecting the Light.

 

The Light, Christ Jesus,

That lights up the world

With the lesser lights like you and me

That follow his word.

 

A diffusion of light

From the garment we wear

Adhering to the command of Christ

To show we care.

 

Can’t be found in a store

Or any high-end shop,

But at the ending of one’s limit

When forced to stop.

 

An encounter with Jesus,

A yielding of the will

To be clothed in his righteousness

And by him to be filled.

 

No longer need I look

For a garment to wear,

I found that wonderful garment

That fits me even here.

 

 

And when I am called

To leave this bivouac of life,

This garment will be my surety

When I stand before Christ.

 

Put on Christ I urge you

And you won’t regret,

Stop searching in all other stores;

Jesus’ is the only outlet.

 

Stewart Russell © July 20, 2025

 

Regarding Time

 

 

Time is so intriguing

In particular, the things we say,

And what is most engaging,

We say them every day.

 

Time had a beginning

Thus, the beginning of time,

And as a result, I must conclude,

There must be a timeline.

 

But what is its origin?

I mean the origin of time

And, I suppose it has an ending;

This too is on my mind.

 

The ending of time

Provokes much discussion,

It is a constant contemplation

In Christendom.

 

It is biblically derived

Per the belief of Christians

And according to Genesis chapter 1

The first item of creation.

 

 

 

In the beginning, God…

God must be the first cause

Or else tell me my dear Mr. Watson,

Who else but God?

 

Two are out of the way:

Beginning and ending of time,

Now I hurry on to the other sayings

That now occupy my mind.

 

In no particular order,

I shall list the other nine

So that we can have a great debate

Before running out of time.

 

For everyone

That is born on planet earth,

There is a definitive timeline

Beginning at their birth.

 

A beginning and ending

Re one’s timeline,

Though some vehemently will argue

One can die before his time.

 

In contrast to this

Some will take a different line

And will often suggest to us

The idea of borrowed time.

 

 

Thus, we’d have a bank

From which to borrow time,

Such a loan will be guaranteed

To stop the next chime.

 

And so, as in borrowing time

There is also finding time,

All I can say is if you ever lose yours

Don’t you claim mine.

 

For then, for sure,

I would be behind time

For even now I’ve so much to do,

Time is on my mind.

 

If I had a time machine

I could try making time,

I could then put up with long queues

When standing in line.

 

Of course, as you know,

This is wasting time

Especially at Government offices

When we wait in line.

 

This one takes the cake

And is always on my mind,

Some people have so little to do

They end up killing time.

 

 

There should be a penalty

For people that kill time,

And so, I do declare at this juncture,

Killing time is a crime.

 

Like as for a homicide

The penalty is incarceration:

A lifetime behind the iron gates

Of Barbados’ state prison.

 

Now to time’s funeral

In the following obituary,

For given the amount of killing time

There shouldn’t be any.

 

 

We regret to announce

The death of time,

So many people are killing it

It’s the end of the line.

 

A service to be held

And its burial thereafter,

After which there’s no more time!

Please, no laughter.

 

Time is a line segment

With a beginning and end,

It’s straight from one to the other

And there is no bend.

 

No diversions,

Just “will happen events”,

Can’t go back and change a thing

However much one repents.

 

 

There is no such thing

As infinite time,

Time has a beginning and end,

It’s time we fall in line.

 

Regarding spending time,

It’s not dollars and cents

And those who attempt to buy it

Are not making sense.

 

 

Buying time is a ‘no-no’,

I am sure you know

But due to the fact we forget,

I must tell you so.

 

There’s no borrowed time,

No finding or losing,

No buying time or spending time

No chance of refusing.

 

There is no killing time,

No behind time or in front,

But a definite running out of time,

Sorry to be blunt.

 

There is wasting time

And we do this a lot

Such that when we should be walking

Then we have to trot.

 

All this we do with time

Though mostly in our mind,

They are usually impossible ways

In which we regard time.

 

Stewart Russell © March 8, 2025

 

New Clothes No Clothes

 

 

See my new clothes!

No seams, No threads, the best!

Extremely expensive:

Paying more for less!

 

Be it Carnival in T&T

Or Kadooment in Bim,

New clothes are no clothes;

Do note my spin.

 

It is trick or treat

For the easily misled

Regarding the many disillusions

We are daily fed.

 

Fake it till you make it!

Believe it and you have it!

Such new clothes are no clothes:

Not a single stitch!

 

 

It’s in the church too

And very prominent as well,

Just close your eyes and make believe

I hear believers tell.

 

Can you see what I see?

Just have faith,

My friend, it is as simple as that

To keep pace.

 

Man, it is like magic:

Illusion, delusion and trick,

Those new clothes are no clothes

Don’t you trip!

 

Especially you ladies,

Please pay close attention!

Your make-believe new clothes

Are a no invention.

 

 

Much exists in our mind

And also in our dreams

And very often in today’s world

It is what it seems.

 

The apparent is real

In our very unreal world

And in the most unlikely places

There are fake pearls.

 

And so, we step out

Feeling mighty great,

Believing we are what we are not

Unaware of our state.

 

A fool’s paradise:

In new brand no clothes,

And at the morally sane and stable

We turn up our nose.

 

For they are naked

And can’t acquire our attire,

In our new clothes no clothes

We advertise for hire.

 

To the highest bidder

We are dressed to kill

And in our new clothes no clothes

We live to thrill.

 

Whatever your imagination,

Just believe it is real

And ignore that innocent child

That says you’ve failed.

 

 

Even in their fantasy

Children see our nakedness

And are very quick at times

To point out our mess.

 

New clothes no clothes!

Be careful what you wear,

Having on absolutely nothing

Is far worse than a tear.

 

Revelation 3:17

 

Because thou sayest,

I am rich,

And increased with goods,

And have need of nothing;

 

And knowest not

That thou art wretched,

And miserable, and poor,

And blind, and naked.

 

Stewart Russell © March 12, 2025