In Praise of Christ the King

I feel its pull, heavier each day

Gravity calling me down,

Back to the dust from which I was made.

I cannot resist its claim on me

No exercise, no diet will reverse the inevitable.

I am dying.

Not immediately.

Nor even soon by human reckoning.

But in Your eternal eyes, my death is as good as done

And that is a mercy.

The King has decreed an end to sin

To its sorrow, damage and decay.

An end to the sickness in our bones.

All flesh must enter a deep sleep like Adam’s.

Even You, My Lord, bearing the sin and sorrow of this world,

Entered the sleep of the curse.

You descended into Hell

And silenced our ancient Foe.

You, My King, have died,

So I do not fear to follow.

You are the New Adam

And I am flesh of Your flesh.

Soon you will call my body up from the ground,

As You Yourself arose.

I cannot resist Your call.

No slumber, no shame, no decay can stop the rising

Of those whom You summon.

Those born again in Your image will greet You in the sky

and reign with You forever.

Resurrection is as certain, as inevitable as death

For You, My King, have decreed it.