Gethsemane

When He is in the upper room
His friends are gathered ’round
But when He kneels in agony,
No friends are to be found.

He says to them, “Come pray with Me,
That ye be tempted not”,
But it is late, the night is dark,
And soon His friends forgot.

He wakes them up, and asks of them
“Come, pray with Me one hour”
Their spirit’s strong, and willing, too,
But yet their flesh lacks power.

And so He goes once more alone,
And bows in agony,
“O Father since this cup is mine,
Come now and strengthen Me!

He knows now that His time is nigh,
He calls His friends to come
He leads them to the entrance,
They hear a rabble’s hum.

The rabble’s here arresting Him,
Now Peter draws his sword,
He strikes, a servant’s ear falls off,
He WILL protect His Lord!

But Jesus turns, and softly says,
“Put up thy sword again,
If you defend us with your sword,
A sword shall be your end”

Then Jesus healed the servant’s ear,
He cast no magic spell
His is the power of a God,
Who doeth all things well.

He needs no wand, no latin chant,
To do any wondrous thing,
He’s God incarnate; God’s power is His;
His word would angels bring.

Then His disciples flee away,
They are over come with fear,
And when the mob has taken Him,
Truly, no friend is near!

They drag Him off with brutal force,
They take Him to be “tried”
His life so pure they find no fault,
The witnesses all lied.

They can’t agree, e’en though they lie,
God’s Son cannot be blamed;
They strive in vain, His perfect life,
Can never be defamed.

Through fierce abusing He is put,
The blood flows from His face,
And yet no sound comes from His mouth,
‘Tis only by God’s grace.

And while He’s being thus abused,
His friend sits just outside,
A damsel asks “Do you know Him?
This Man that’s being tried?”

He then began to curse and swear,
“I do not know the Man!”
But then remembered what Jesus said,
“E’en you won’t be able to stand.”

He weeps in grief, cries bitterly,
“My Lord, I’ve failed to be true!”
He asks forgiveness, Jesus freely gives,
His soul is washed and new!

But now day breaks, and the people talk,
Of what fate their pris’ner will land,
And so they bind Him and lead Him away,
Before the heathen to stand.

But even the heathen have no complaint,
To bring against this Man,
The jews all rage; “Kill! Kill this Man!
And scatter all His clan!”

But still the gov’nor says to them
“I find no fault in Him”,
But yet he yields and scourges Him
According to their whim.

They clothe Him in a purple robe,
And mocking bow the knee,
And caref’lly weave a crown for Him,
But it’s a crown of thorns.

They led Him out to Golgatha,
And hung Him on tree,
Yet His last words were words of peace,
Were words to set them free

He hung up there for three long hours,
In total agony,
And when He died ’twas not defeat,
But glorious victory!

He laid in a tomb for three short days,
Hidden from mortal eye
But then the guards were struck with fright
By an angel from the sky!

The angel rolled away the stone,
But the body was not inside
By His own great power He raised Himself
The power of death He defied!

There are many strong proofs, that these deeds took place,
But most importantly,
Of all the historical proofs we read,
There is one more important to me

The grace that He gives for every day,
Grace that allows me to know
In the midst of many perplexities
True peace, though through trouble I go

The power to feel life when I used to be dead,
My soul from it’s load set free,
By Jesus’ great power, my bands have been loosed
And He bore them to dark Calvary

Where He tied them for ever and I bear them no more
For He washed all my sins stains away.
I’m free from the bonds of the Devil’s strong might,
And I’m promised life through eternity’s day!
-Robbie

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