The Pharisees just could not see
That Jesus came to set them free
The Sadducees did not believe
In Jesus and would not receive
His teaching on the afterlife
They told a story of one wife
Whose seven husbands upped and died
At resurrection will this bride
Be wed to each and every groom
Or just to one, if so to whom?
And Jesus thought this was no joke
And criticised them when he spoke
You do not have the faintest clue
Of what the power of God can do
The Living God of Abraham
Will conquer death, that is his plan.
Jerusalem from Bethany
Was just a Sabbath walk away
His time had come to ride a colt
A humble sign, not frank revolt
The crowds had gathered to acclaim
The Son of David as he came
Into the temple courts in which
He turned the traders from their pitch
And once he’d cleansed the den of thieves
He sat to teach like one who grieves
Jerusalem, Jerusalem!
I call you like a mother hen
To come, repent and find true peace
But you refuse to find release
With stubborn attitude and will
You treat the prophets whom you kill
Woe to you, teachers of the law
You turn the key in heaven’s door
Woe to you, wretched sons of hell
The harm you’ve done no-one can tell
Woe to you, fools with blinded eyes
You do not know what God supplies
Woe to you, when you give a tithe
And swagger in conceited pride
Woe to you, acting out a part
With deep corruption in your heart
Woe to you, slayers of the just
You will depart and bite the dust
Woe to you, spawn of ancient snake
How do you think you might escape?
Your destiny in hell is plain
For all my prophets you have slain
And this vain temple where you pray
Will be torn down and on that day
Be on your guard, not led astray
For many will then fall away
Then wars and famines, pestilence
False prophets, seismic violence
The love of many will grow cold
And many terrors will unfold
But you hold fast and preach the word
In every corner of the world
And on a day my Father set
I shall return for my elect
For on a day when none suspect
The angels will the crop collect
Be ready for the Son of Man
According to God’s masterplan
And on return to Bethany
At table with his company
The Saviour sat in glad repose
Then Martha’s sister Mary rose
And with a jar of sweet perfume
Anointed Jesus, filled the room
With aromatic fragrance rare
The blush, the cost she did not spare
Comments