Ministry Of Sacrament (Romans 8:5-6)

The Ministry of Sacrament is puzzling to me;
It’s filled with superstition, hocus-pocus, which I see
As being so beyond the point it misses us by far;
I wonder what You think of it, and what Your meanings are.

My guess is You don’t care too much, You’ll use most anything,
To reach into our broken hearts, thus healing to them bring;
I’ve seen You use a car wreck, train wreck, nail up in the wall,
And even Amway – goodness me, have you no pride at all?!

Lord, when it comes to Sacrament, I think of sacrifice;
Three nails once pounded in a cross, presaged by Your advice
To take our crosses daily as we follow in Your way –
Remember broken bread, and wine poured out, each passing day.

Lord, you said, “Take and eat”, and “Drink it, all of you”, my friends
For someday down the road for you your fun and games will end;
For evil dominates the world – comes crashing on our heads,
As soon as we step to the plate when by the Spirit led.

For evil does not like the way some folks live out their life;
The world of business (what a mess – it really is not nice)
Can grind a person up so fast, and toss them to the ground;
The valley’s full of dry bones still, sun-bleached, and scattered ’round.

Lord, when a challenge faces me, as happens now and then,
I hear You bid me follow You – You on a mission send
Me to fulfill Your wishes, Lord, pay heed to Your advice;
Let go, that folks move into life, taste fruit of sacrifice.

For when the seed falls to the ground, and dies where it is sown,
New life springs up for us until each plant is fully grown;
But now there’s thirty-sixty-hundred times as many seeds,
For geometric is how life is built to fill our needs.

Your invitation to us Lord, is “Be to others, seed;
Don’t cling to life, but let it go, to meet another’s need;
Sometimes that means withholding funds, sometimes it’s letting go;
Each circumstance unique in life, you’ll by the Spirit know –

“Just what to do, I’ll make it clear, that’s not the problem, son;
More, ‘doing it’ the challenge is, if victory’s to be won;
‘The world is too much with us’, wrote a poet in his day,
And so it is today, my friend so this is what I say:

“My body it was broken, and My blood spilled on the ground;
As you would say, ‘a perfect storm’ –dismay spread all around;
But though no intervention came to save My life that day,
I rose on Easter from the grave, God rolled the stone away.

“See? Nothing separates us from the life we have in God;
Not life, or death, or anything – which seems to others odd;
But that’s what reassures us when we're cast upon the ground,
Good Friday, yes, then Easter, life anew from death abounds.

“So, act it out in ritual, but more importantly,
I want you to live out that truth – in that way, ‘Follow me’;
That’s how new life springs up my friend – it’s through your broken life,
And wine squeezed out upon the ground amidst the daily strife.

“That’s sacrament – a Latin term for what I said that day;
The Roman soldiers use it too – ‘Allegiance oath’ we’d say –
Back in those days when things were tough, abuse throughout the land,
To go My “way” would cost your life once you had made a stand.

“The cost is no less here today, though skirting it’s a breeze;
The cost to follow in My way? A life upon your knees;
Not in some pious way of life, cut off from others’ needs,
But asking grace to walk the talk – to go where Spirit leads.”

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