I Would Never Believe

A historical, apologetic poem…


I would not believe in a hidden Creator;
I would not believe in original Man;
I would not believe in an ark on a great flood;
I would not believe in God’s bow or God’s plan.

I would not believe Abram heard a voice calling;
I would not believe he was given Canaan;
I would not believe the son, Isaac, was promised;
I would not believe Jacob wrestled a man.

I would not believe that a bush spoke while burning;
I would not believe Moses parted the sea;
I would not believe in the stones cut from Sinai;
I would not believe cloud and fire could lead.

I would not believe that walls fell before trumpets;
I would not believe in lambs, bulls, or priests;
I would not believe in an altar or temple;
I would not believe in their prophets or kings.

I would not believe when wild John came to baptize;
I would not believe in the Man he proclaimed;
I would not believe in the Spirit descending;
I would not believe some unknown Nazarene.

I would not believe in the wine, loaves or fishes;
I would not believe in the lepers made clean;
I would not believe that dead Lazarus was raised;
I would not believe Bartimaeus could see.

I would not believe in Zacchaeus, forgiven;
I would not believe, nor care, Jesus wept;
I would not care a sick woman dared touched Him;
I would not believe that He came to pay debts.

I would not believe some foretold he would suffer;
I would not believe He intended to die;
I would not care were He innocent or not;
I would not believe He was Christ, crucified.

I would not believe that I needed a Savior;
I would not believe anything that He claimed;
I would not believe in a Father to pray to;
I would not believe He, alone, is the Way.

I would not believe that events have a purpose;
I would not believe my life means anything;
I would not believe that He cares for my sorrows;
I would not believe He’s my Redeemer, my King.

If hundreds had not seen Him alive, after dead;
If witnesses were not killed for saying He lived;
If four had not written and fully agreed;
If disciples had not loved Him, unto death, how they loved him;

If they had not loved Him, I would never believe.

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Easter: Imagine Sorrow Changed

Hello Everyone,

We all know that tomorrow is Easter. We all have our family traditions for celebrating it. May the warmth of your celebration be everything you hope.

Sunrise over three crosses

But, I’d like to ask that you join me today and tomorrow in imagining what it must have been like for Jesus’ followers early that Sunday morning, before the sun had risen, before they knew He had risen.

Imagine walking to the tomb with with several women, mourning, sobs in their throats, to prepare His body for burial.

Imagine hiding with His disciples in a darkened, barricaded room for fear of arrest.

Imagine Mary, weeping at the empty tomb, frantic, begging the gardner to tell her where he had laid (hidden? stolen? desecrated?) the body.

And only after you begin to imagine that dark frame of mind—the most utter despair—only then…

Try to imagine their joy.

How it must have changed everything they believed about Him, about themselves, about life in the world.

Strange that we so seldom remember it.

Strange that we are so little changed by it.

Dawn and I pray that joy will find you tomorrow in congregational worship as you imagine, and hear the announcement,

CHRIST IS RISEN!

and proclaim,

CHRIST IS RISEN INDEED!