What kind of =
king are you?
What kind of =
king rides on a donkey, a donkey that might be borrowed, or might be =
hijacked?
What kind of =
king builds a castle with a wide-open door for children to enter but a =
needle-eye sized hole for the rich?
What kind of =
king rides on a donkey into the city where his assassins are =
waiting?
What kind of =
king enters his assassins’ city with a ragtag commotion for all to =
see and not one security guard?
What kind of =
king lets his subjects treat him like a military liberator but =
doesn’t come with a single sword or =
weapon?
What kind of =
king lets his followers send a public message to the competing powers =
with no intent of answering a single challenge?
What kind of =
king are you?
What kind of =
king can send two followers to fetch a donkey and know exactly what =
they’ll need to say?
What kind of =
king can tell a blind beggar “Your faith has made you well,” =
and actually make him see?
What kind of =
king can weep at the funeral of his friend only to say, “Lazarus, =
come out!” and watch him come back to =
life.
What kind of =
king can sit at the dinner table with his subjects and be subject to =
them and wash their feet?
What kind of =
king can carry his own cross, can serve his assassin and help in his own =
execution?
What kind of =
king can die so that his assassins can live?
What kind of =
king are you?
A King who =
came not to be served but to serve
A King who =
gave his life as a ransom for many.
A King who =
keeps his promises
A King who I =
can trust
A King who can =
save
A King I want =
to follow
And so I come =
to you, King Jesus, not to be served by you but to serve you and to give =
my life to you.
Take my cloak, =
use it to clothe the naked or use it for your donkey to step on. I =
don’t care so long as you’re the one taking =
it.
Because =
you’re the only one who will give me a new garment in return, a =
white robe made of saints’ righteous deeds, a garment that fits so =
well it’ll be a new self, your self.
Use me, King =
Jesus, all of me. As you see fit. Make me a knight or a bishop or a rook =
or make me an expendable pawn. I don’t care what piece I am.
So =
long as yours is the hand that’s moving me. Because yours is the =
mighty hand with an outstretched arm. Yours is the hand that rules with =
an iron scepter, and that knit me together in my mother’s =
womb.
So let me =
follow you, King Jesus, all the way to Golgotha.
Let me walk =
next to you and put palm branches at your feet and shout =
“Hosanna!” with the children.
And if the =
child in me shouting “Hosanna!” grows up to an adult =
shouting “Crucify!” bring me back to the water where I can =
be born again.
Let me sit at =
the table with you and take bread and wine from your hands, and let me =
lay my head on your chest.
And if thirty =
pieces of the world’s silver are ever enough to draw me away, wash =
my feet and make me clean again
Let me pray =
with you at Gethsemane and learn from you how to be vulnerable with the =
Father let me see your tears and sweat and =
grief.
And if my =
prayers give way to sleep, wake me again with the waters of =
regeneration.
Let me walk =
with you to the cross. Let me be Simon of Cyrene and learn to carry your =
cross with you.
And if my =
Simon of Cyrene becomes Simon Peter and I walk away from your cross to =
deny you lead me back to these waters where I can still die with you. =
And live.
And all along =
this long rough road let my song be: Hosanna!
Blessed is he =
who comes in the name of the Lord!
Blessed is the =
coming kingdom of our father David!
Hosanna in the =
highest!
[Michael =
Gehrling, Church planter and campus minister with InterVarsity Christian =
Fellowship in Pittsburg]
~~
Dr Bob Griffin =
[email protected] =
www.grif.net =
"Jesus =
Knows Me, This I Love!"