John the Baptist
"Know this, you fox, I stake my life: ‘Thou shalt not take thy brother's wife!' This is the word of God!" Again The words rushed to his mind and ran With shivers down his back.
The eyes Of Herod flashed with rage: "Despise Your king and you will die, wild ass, My name is Herod Antipas! Go dunk your hot and holy fire, I execute whom I desire!" The soldiers and Herodias Had smiled. "O that Tiberius Could see my husband now," she thought. For this she lived, and loved and fought. And now to see the Baptist break! To see the big-mouth prophet quake! Power was her paramour, Not Herod Antipas. "It's your Turn now, Elijah boy. Fly ‘way To heaven in your fire, or stay And beg the pardon of your queen." "Adulteress, you are unclean!" The words had shot forth from his tongue: "Take ashes now and sit amidst the dung Behind your palace wall, and cry To heaven where the God Most High Stands ready in his mercy now To stay your hand and disallow That you sink in your murky sea, And murder add to lechery." The soldiers readied for the cry, A saber lay against his eye. But John stood like a desert stone And loved not life or flesh or bone, But only God and righteousness.
"Do you not know that godlessness Will bring a judgment on your head, O Herod, whether I am dead Or live? The God who made and owns Your life, who rules all human thrones, And makes the laws for every man On earth has laid a holy ban On what you've done. Why should a rich And mighty prince like you go ditch Your wife for Philip's Jezebel? Why do you run headlong to hell O Herod Antipas, and yolked With Philip's heifer? Who croaked Among your royal counsellors That you run after snobbish whores Like this Herodias? Repent, Ahab and Jezebel! God meant For kings and queens to rule their lands By righteousness! Now he demands, Repent! Lest you be chaff and burn Unquenched because you would not turn." Once more the words poured to his mind As John sat in the dungeon, blind: One eye, gouged out by the Tetrarch, The other useless in the dark. For seven weeks the splitting pain Had ripped his fierce and holy brain.
And now the lurid music from The distant hall with visceral drum Made war against his soul. "Oh no," He groaned, "not this!" The awful foe Of doubt coiled ‘round his heart again, And spoke: "There have been other men Like you who thought they were a sign, Who prayed and never touched their wine, And lived in desert caves and wore Their skins and set out to restore The kingdom. And they came to naught Like you. Elijah? Have you wrought One miracle like him? A three- Year drought? A beaker like a sea Of oil? A resurrected son? Mt. Carmel? John, what have you done? Have ravens tended your desire? Where is your chariot of fire?" John wept in desperation for Some solid ground: a tempest roar, An earthquake, thunderstorm with fire Some sign that . Silence! Flute and lyre And drum all hushed...and in their place The sound of sweet and sovereign grace, A still small voice: "I am the One Who is to come, the very Son Of David and of God. And you, My friend, a burning light to do This night a mighty deed like mine. It is the strongest cup of wine You'll ever taste. Be strong, O man Of God! My Father has a plan For you and me when we have done Our work: soon, like the blazing sun, Your blind and bloody face will shine. Fear not, I stay. You have your sign." The dungeon door swung wide, and there: A soldier in the blinding glare; And with him stood Herodias. "We've come to bid you dine with us," She said. But John had no desire To fight. The time for holy fire Was gone. He knelt and pulled away His hair and bowed his head to pray.
Such is the path that leads to life: Uncover sin and feel the knife. The way is lit by candle two. Who follows John? Jesus! And You?
Logos.ReferenceTagging.lbsBibleVersion = "ESV"; Logos.ReferenceTagging.lbsLinksOpenNewWindow = true; Logos.ReferenceTagging.lbsLibronixLinkIcon = "dark"; Logos.ReferenceTagging.lbsNoSearchTagNames = [ "h1", "h2", "h3" ]; Logos.ReferenceTagging.lbsCssOverride = true; Logos.ReferenceTagging.tag(); By John Piper. © 1986 Desiring God. Website: desiringGod.org
