The Foot Washing
Jesus knew the hour had come that soon He should depart;
He
loved them all unto the last, him tugging at His heart.
The
devil having done his thing, his heel was lifted up;
but
this thing, too, was given Him – and us if we would sup.
He
laid His garments to the side; a towel He made His girdle.
With
water in a basin now, He'd overcome this hurdle.
Their
feet He took them in His hands and washed them everyone;
He
washed their feet though they were clean except for Simon's son.
He
came to Simon, Peter said, “Lord, do you wash my feet?”
“What
I do now you do not know.” Be patient. Keep your seat.
“Never
shall you wash my feet.” I'll never stand for that.
“If
not, with Me you'll have no part.” You don't know what I'm at.
“Not
just my feet. My hands! My head!” With you I need my part.
Before
He spoke, Jude noticed this, his way His eyes did dart.
“Who's
bathed needs nothing else to do, he's clean as clean can be;
but
you're not all.” Jude has his fault, but just the two could see.
The
covenant was made in stealth, so only he would know.
The
darting eyes spoke otherwise; here's what those eyes did show:
They
showed that Jesus knew the tale that only Jude should tell;
and this He kept between them two, He'd taught them this as well.
He'd
taught them, “If a brother fail, to him go tell his fault.
And
more than that, for your sake too, forgive him as you ought.”
So
now His eyes accomplished this, His washing did it too.
Examples
of these lessons here, He gave for me and you.
But
if our heart is hardened, against those we have judged,
our
mind's made up, and nothing said, could ever make us budge,
forever
we're against them, and we always hold the grudge:
In
the arteries of life we serve as nothing more than sludge.
He
heard the words of Jesus. He's the only one who could,
because
He kept it private. That's the way He said they should.
So
Jesus gained His brother, it's the thing that He was at.
He
overcame the devil and the precious ointment spat.
So
taking up His garments, and once again His seat,
He
asked them if they understood regarding washing feet.
Of
course they couldn't understand the thing that they'd been given;
but
afterward they'd hear the tale that Judas was forgiven.
So
now the hour was well advanced for Him to take His leave.
He'd
go the way His Father said and leave them all to grieve.
He'd
eat the bread His Father gave, the work that He should do.
He'd
give His life for all the world, His Father gave it too.
But
that the scripture be fulfilled, He should not eat alone.
One
should eat His bread with Him, and that one of His own.
The
scripture said that it should be whose heel was lifted up,
the
one who should deliver Him and that way share His cup.
With
trespass now forgiven him, they two could share His bread.
The
devil wouldn't call the shots, but Jesus would instead.
It
troubled Him to think of it, the woe not His alone.
The
one He saved would rue his life, his flesh and too, his bone.
The
servant's not the greater nor is he that one does send,
but
the greater is received by who receives him, in the end.
He
told them one should give Him up, and that one of the twelve.
Although
each asked if it were he, no further did they delve.
Except
for Simon Peter. Simon beckoned to his son
to
ask of Jesus secretly which one should be the one.
So
after he had asked Him, the Lord said here's the sign:
the
one who gets this sop, when I have dipped it in the wine.
So
after He had dipped it, He gave it to the one
who'd
just then asked the question. He gave to Simon's son.
Flesh
and blood were given so the last became the first.
An
end would come to hunger; an end would come to thirst.
Judas
only filled the bill; He couldn't choose another.
He
had to choose and send that one, that was His new gained brother.
And
having then received the sop, now Satan entered in.
The
adversary came to tempt and battle from within.
“Is
it I should give You up?” You cast that from my heart!
“Do
as you've said and quickly now, by scripture it's your part.”
So
at the word of Jesus, he got up from his place.
His
act of glorifying all would think a great disgrace.
Having
then received the sop, he went out; it was night.
With
both God and Satan in him, he'd reacted to his plight.
Things
of men and things of God were whirling in his head.
The
question he considered, were it better he were dead?
Destined
for perdition, the condition he'd been in,
he'd
come to hate this life of his, he was a man of sin.
But
Jesus came to save him, of this he'd heard Him say.
Could
He really do it, for one so far astray?
To
him it hardly mattered, his course he now had set.
He'd
plod this road unto the end despite his deep regret.
He
really couldn't say to Him, “Lord, I've changed my mind,”
when
Jesus spoke, “You've said.” It seemed as if to bind.
He'd
heard the words of Simon, “Lord, be it far from thee,”
and
now he had that spirit, from which teaching said to flee.
“This
shall not be unto thee?” how could he say these words?
When
Jesus had recoiled at them, as not of God but for the birds.
O
Judas (It's All About Jesus)
There
was a man, a fallen man
whose
destiny would be perdition.
He
was a thief and betrayed his friend.
This
we received in our tradition.
A
better friend no man could have.
His
love revealed, revealed unspoken.
He
washed the heel 'twas lifted up.
He
washed it clean - a sign, a token.
A
heart was changed; a heart was healed.
The
power of love could not be broken.
But
something else was going on,
something
else, and hardly spoken.
From
up on high he came to show
how
every man would have to go.
Then
going back from this below,
he
told his friend he'd help him go.
Like
Job he'd look upon his birth.
A
later judge upon his girth,
and
lead the sheep of planet earth
to
denigrate his life, his worth.
Beelzebub!
his friend they called him.
Now he's been called so much, much more.
He
earned his coins - they weren't stolen,
but
took them back which Scripture said restore.
Denied
himself. Took up his cross.
His
life of sin he made his loss,
and
losing that for his friend's sake,
he
found his life in losing's wake.
Born
once again. Below the cross.
His
brother/friend he'd made his boss.
Boss
to Boss his friend would go
As
he looked on from down below.
And
looking on he heard him speak
to
her there standing grieved and bleak.
“Behold
your son,” he heard him say.
And
with that said, he looked his way.
Three
days hence upon the morn,
came
Magdalene, her look careworn,
and
said they'd taken him away;
she
didn't know where now he lay.
He
outran Simon to the tomb,
and
he looked in, expecting gloom.
Then
Simon came and entered in;
then
he did too, the man of sin.
Linen
cloth here. Head's napkin there.
But
corpse no more lay anywhere.
They'd
entered in who were bereaved,
but
seeing these he then believed.
After
this, when out to sea,
he
saw him standing on the shore,
the
man with life forever . . . more,
the
man who's knocking at the door.
"Paradidomi"
The men who wrote the KJV
wrote well but not inerrably.
“Betray” was not “paradidomi.”
He only said, “deliver me.”
The word “betray” should not have
been
a gospel word or found therein.
Though one's described in all but one,
the word's not used by God's own son.
Against him, “heel was lifted up.”
He said it once at their last sup.
Not once before, not once again,
not with “betray” he named the sin.
He washed the heel, and it was clean.
So after that, don't call it mean.
He said to him that he'd “deliver.”
It was God's plan for his life's giver.
This collection of previously posted poems is offered only in my own name.
No comments:
Post a Comment