When He Came

The God of cosmic power and might
The King who dwelt in perfect light,
Exchanged angelic praise and awe,
For tiny frame and stable floor.
No regal wreath or carpet laid,
No royal train or motorcade,
Just beast and stench and trough and stain,
The King of Heaven when He came.

Though foxes dig and swallows nest,
He had no place to lay His head,
The Son of Man, in shabby robe,
Who shaped the stars and dressed the globe.
Would one brief glance reveal that He,
Gave life and breath to you and me?
The face of Yahweh: weathered, plain,
The King of Heaven when He came.

And as for followers, He chose
The low and unregarded. Those
The world considered too obtuse,
To be of any lasting use.
Not from universities
Not Sadducee or Pharisee,
He chose the weak and poor and lame,
The King of Heaven when He came.

A mocked-up court, a screaming mob,
The man on trial, the Son of God.
The only innocent on earth,
They hate Him; mock, abuse and curse.
The brilliant light of Heaven's Day,
Judged by those He came to save,
Condemned to die the traitors way,
The King of Heaven when He came

It brings me close to tears still,
As I consider Calvary's hill.
That God incarnate, Lord of all,
Should bear the guilt; should take the fall.
And as the nails go though his hands,
It is for me; for me He hangs,
He paid my price, He wore my shame,
The King of Heaven, when He came.

The slain Messiah, body cold,
The Promised One for silver sold.
And Satan laughed and Mary wept,
And Roman guard their vigil kept-
Had they forgotten what He'd said?
Could Life's creator long stay dead?
On Easter Day He rose again,
The King of heaven, when He came.

He's coming back one day; you'll see,
Though not in stable poverty.
With trumpet call and angel choir,
In glory bright and eyes like fire,
He'll bring the dawn of Heaven's Day,
And wipe all longing tears away.
When He appears this world is done,
The King of Heaven, when he comes.