December 02, 2013

Jesus' Life from the Perspective of Pre-mortal Spirits

At this time Christ descends,
I bid farewell to Him, my Friend.
As we tenderly embrace,
The tears roll down my swollen face.

Father: 
I love thee, my dear Son;
Our divine purpose makes us one.

Christ: 
Father, I love thee too;
I’ll share thy word in all I do.

Spirits: 
Goodbye Brother!
Goodbye Friend!
We wish thee well
‘Til thy journey’s end.

Goodbye Brother!
Goodbye Friend!
We love thee; we love thee!
To thy journey tend.

When Christ claims His birthright,
With joy, we illuminate the night!
Through a heavenly window,
We watch our Brother learn and grow.
Our hearts rejoice and sing
As John the Baptist baptizes our King.

Narrator: 
By the touch of His hand
Many do learn to understand.
Through faith He heals the blind
And those without a peace of mind.

Spirits:
At this moment in time—
Precious, vital, sublime—
Our Savior is put to the test,
To do His very best.

He could give up,
Not drink from the bitter cup.
After all, it’s His choice.
Humbly softly speaks His voice:
I will fulfill.”

Those words, that conviction,
This story, non-fiction.
He bleeds from every pore—
Not just a drop or two, but much more,
Every sin, every pain—
For many a worlds’ reign.

Narrator: 
Within Gethsemane,
Jesus the Christ lets out this plea:

Christ: 
Dear Father, can it be
This bitter cup can pass from me?

Father: 
But this work must be done
By thee my perfect elder Son.

Christ: 
Not my will, but thy will
Which I do my best to fulfill.

Father: 
Yes, my Son, yes that is right.
Thou canst do it; Thou art the Light.

Narrator:
 Upon His back lies our sin;
 He suffers so that we may win.
 No one can cry to sleep.
 Heavenly Father and Mother weep.

Pilate: 
King of Kings is the news;
Art thou then the king of the Jews?

Narrator: 
This reply from the Lamb:
Three Crosses

Christ: 
Thou sayest that a king I am.
I was born to this end
To bear of the truth to all men.

Narrator: 
“Crucify him!” they cheer.
No! Not my elder Brother dear!
They spit out such mean scorns.
They press on His head a crown of thorns.
How can they disdain
A love so clear, so great, so plain?
Yet I hear past their lies
Their spirits howling painful cries.
The Roman soldiers nail
Christ to the cross who paid their bail.

Christ: 
Dear Father, please forgive them
For they know not that they condemn.
I send my spirit into thy hands.

Father: 
Thou hast obeyed all my commands.
Now my heart extends to thee
In gratitude eternally!

Spirits:
In our hearts we agree,
Dear Savior, we thank thee!

Narrator:
The earth shudders.
Someone utters,
“Truly this was the Son of God.”

His body is not yet risen,
Mary at Tomb
He visits departed spirits in prison.

Mary Magdalene finds the empty tomb
And her heart fills with gloom.
But the risen Lord comes to Mary
For a short time to tarry.

We now know--
We are no longer bound to death.
We will have our second breath.
So begins a new story,
When he returns in full glory.