Saturday, 26 March 2016

He Is Risen!

From the Bible –

Isaiah 53 v 6 –

All we like sheep have gone astray; we have turned every one to his own way; and the LORD hath laid on Him the iniquity of us all.

Matthew 28 v 1 – 6 –

In the end of the sabbath, as it began to dawn toward the first day of the week, came Mary Magdalene and the other Mary to see the sepulchre. And, behold, there was a great earthquake: for the angel of the Lord descended from heaven, and came and rolled back the stone from the door, and sat upon it. His countenance was like lightning, and his raiment white as snow: And for fear of him the keepers did shake, and became as dead men. And the angel answered and said unto the women, Fear not ye: for I know that ye seek Jesus, which was crucified. He is not here: for He is risen, as He said. Come, see the place where the Lord lay.

John 3 v 16 –

For God so loved the world, that He gave His only begotten Son, that whosoever believeth in Him should not perish, but have everlasting life.

A poem from “Echoes of Eternity” by Michael R Abbott; used with permission.

A Vision Of Calvary

How black my heart would seem if I
Could see my Saviour raised on high:
Upon the cross, just hanging there,
As He my every sin did bear.

How silent would my tongue remain,
When tempted to cause others pain,
If I could hear that loving plea,
"Father forgive!" He made for me.

How often would I flee from sin,
Instead of harbouring it within,
If I could see my Lord impaled
As to that cross His hands they nailed.

How quickly would my feet refrain
From walking in the by-path lane,
If I should know that gift of love
Which came to Calvary from above.

How soon mine eyes would fill with tears
If to my heart and eyes and ears,
This scene should testify that I
Had caused my Saviour there to die.

And a hymn –

Christ, the Lord, is ris'n today;
Sons of men and angels say
Raise your joys and triumphs high;
Sing, ye heav'ns, and earth reply:

Love's redeeming work is done;
Fought the fight, the battle won.
Death in vain forbids Him rise;
Christ hath opened Paradise.

Lives again our glorious King;
"Where, O death, is now thy sting?"
Once He died our souls to save:
Where's thy victory, O grave?

Soar we now where Christ hath led,
Foll'wing our exalted Head;
Made like Him, like Him we rise;
Ours the cross, the grave, the skies.

Charles Wesley, 1707-1788

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