My friend “Matt Pilgrim” is at it again with a poignant poem for today.
The sacrifice of praise seems small
Though nothing else is needed.
Another simple call of God’s
Our hearts have not yet heeded.
One of the old hymnals declares
“Nothing in my hand I bring”
But some mix of pride and fear in us
Insists on adding something.
In many forms throughout the years
We’ve brought our sacrifices.
Sometimes blood, sometimes good works,
All just thinly veiled vices.
These days we leave our votes at the altar
“Look, God, I’ve stood for truth!”
How quaint to think we’ll build Christ’s kingdom
From the voting booth.
The sacrifices of God, my friend,
Aren’t elephants or mules
It’s broken and contrite hearts we bring
Carrying crosses carved for fools.
Or maybe we’ve been blinded by pride
Unaware of the contrast
Between the earthly kingdoms we build
And the one in which first shall be last.
Oddly, our King thought better of us
Than to insist we win elections.
He left us with the much harder task
Of making disciples of all nations.