February 24, 2013

Battlefield

Posted in Eastertide, Good Friday, Holy Spirit, Holy Week, Hope, Lent, Liturgical Calendar, Obedience, Original Sin, Redeemer, Resurrection, Sanctification, Self-Discipline, Son of God, Spiritual Warfare, Suffering Servant, Tempter, Word tagged , , at 12:11 am by Teresa Roberts Johnson

In the beginning, the battle line was drawn
When rebels stole what God had disallowed.
The evil one had used them as his pawn,
Pretending he could elevate the proud.
Then God in mercy banished them from Paradise
And charged an angel with a flaming sword
To guard them from the tree that would entice.
The tree of life could not be their reward.
Not life but death was due for their offense,
Yet as the battle raged throughout the years
Kinsman-redeemers came to their defense.
In expectation of the One who ends all fears.
Though dying on a tree, He won the day,
Pierced through by sword of Roman soldier rude.
And three days in the silent tomb He lay,
Till with His rising all things were renewed.
This time the Father charged the angel guard
To speak His peace to those who love the Son,
Soldiers of Christ armed with the Spirit’s Sword,
The Living Word who has the conquest won.
Now marching on to songs of victory
His army keeps the disciplines of war
Until all prisoners have been set free
And God is glorified on every shore.

Copyright © 2013 by Teresa Roberts Johnson (All rights reserved)


This may be the most epic piece I’ve ever written because it spans all of history. A few days ago I started thinking about the three swords mentioned in the poem, and I was especially intrigued by the idea that the Roman soldier’s sword pierced through Him who is called the Word, and the Word is called the sword of the Spirit. Then tonight I was captured by the thought that there was an angel at the gate of Eden and one at the tomb. I know it is fruitless to dwell on questions like, “Could that have been the same angel?” But I still think it’s amazing that the angels are an integral part of the story of man’s reconciliation to God.


Completed in the hours just before the Second Sunday of Lent.

February 14, 2013

Rest in Returning

Posted in Grace, Lent, Liturgical Calendar, Obedience, Parables, Prodigal Son, Sanctification, Self-Discipline tagged , at 9:58 pm by Teresa Roberts Johnson

He made a bed of self-pity and foul hay
Amid the rowdy pigs, his only comrades now.
Then he, the noble son, in sorrow lay
And dreamed of all that he had disavowed.

His dreams were fitful, for his hunger gnawed
So deeply he would steal the husks to eat.
Then waking up, he set out on the path unshod
To seek his Father’s blessed mercy seat.

Humiliated by the world, he ran
In humble penance to the Father’s arms
And there, enfolded, his new life began,
No longer tempted by the world’s false charms.

A robe of righteousness he then received
From Him who met him while he was far off.
Unbounded love flowed from the One he grieved.
Here ends the shame of dwelling in the trough.

Thou, Lenten fast, our tutor for these days,
Return us from the pigsty of our sin.
Make clean our hearts and cause our eyes to gaze
Upon our Father; help us rest in Him.

Copyright © 2013 by Teresa Roberts Johnson (All rights reserved)


Based on Luke 15:11-22. The story is so well known that the poem needs no explanation. The title is a slight alteration of a line in one of my favorite prayers in the BCP:

O God of peace, who hast taught us that in returning and rest we shall be saved, in quietness and in confidence shall be our strength; By the might of thy Spirit lift us, we pray thee, to thy presence, where we may be still and know that thou art God; through Jesus Christ our Lord. Amen.


As much as I am able to squeeze into a poem, so many things must still be left unsaid. I wanted to revisit the idea of sin leaving him shoeless by stating that the Father put sandals on his feet, but I figured since the Scripture takes care of the second half of the equation, I only needed to supply the first. I also wanted to state that hunger drives us back to God, but it never found a place in the structure. The idea is there even if the words are not.


I completed this poem on 14 February 13. I started it last night and fell asleep shortly after asking the question “What rhymes with pig sties?” As you can see, I worked it out so that the rhyme was unnecessary.

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