This Ancient Faith
-Jym Gregory
This ancient faith we celebrate is moored in days gone by.
A day when weeping filled the air and hearty faiths ran dry.
Time is his, and time was full, to remove the crimson mark.
Displayed his wisdom to the world, as the days grew dark.
Stayed the course, forever true, immovable as rock.
Though spit upon and beat with rage, stayed silent in the dock.
Mocking rogues stripped him bare, coarse whips tore through his flanks.
While all along the ones he'd loved were hiding in the ranks.
To those who nailed he bared his hands upon Golgotha's hill.
A desperate cry—and then the end—triumphant shouts in hell.
Daytime sky turned black as night, again Rome had its say.
Laid in the tomb, stone rolled in place, gone the light of day.
Three days (two nights) no word was heard, his faithful band dispersed.
Then glory opened silent graves, defeated now the curse.
Full atonement, can it be? The story told in round.
The sacrifice sufficient all, he wears his rightful crown.
Now through the ages, forevermore, he shares his Father's throne.
And we for whom he bore the shame will make his praises known.