My Christ - His Power

Give us a virile Christ for these rough days!

You painters, sculptors, show the warrior bold;

And you who turn mere words to gleaming gold,

Too long your lips have sounded in the praise

Of patience and humility. Our ways

Have parted from the quietude of old;

We need a man of strength with us to hold

The very breach of death without amaze.

Did He not scourge from temple courts the thieves?

And made the arch-fiend’s self again to fall?

And blast the figtree that was only leaves?

And still the raging tumult of the seas?

Did He not bear the greatest pain of all,

Silent upon the Cross on Calvary?

Rex Boundy

Taken from The Incomparable Christ by J. Oswald Sanders