That City,
Where God and the Lamb
Live with their People—
That Holy City—
That Heavenly Jerusalem—
It shines, even this very day
On this weary Earth.
Where the nations—
Whether they know it or not—
Walk in its light.
It is the light
Of course,
Of the righteousness
Of God and the Lamb,
Revealed from the beginning
Through the very end of the story.
But it is also the light
Of those through whom
They shined
In exploits of faith
And in their suffering
And yearning for
A country not their own.
These are our players of note.
And all the world’s the stage—
Their dry land in the round,
Amid a howling house—
Amid that banished, raging sea of an audience,
Put here to watch the show
They knew they would hate,
And daring to encroach
A role for themselves,
As best they could manage
Under the watchful eyes
Of the holy ones in the balcony.
And out came Adam and Eve
And had their scene.
And so ran the scenes
All the way through
The various travesties
And beauties.
And when, in due time,
The King of Kings entered,
The balcony sang out in exultation
While the lower house jeered.
And when he died, it was dark,
And then bright again,
And all the good characters reappeared.
And then came the great heyday
He had started before he left.
And at length, there were his apostles
At the end of a parade—
Their faithful plight amid the cursing mob
Proving both the justice of the Cause
And the guilt of the rebels.
And by then, everyone knew
The hero would be back
To clear the sea
And close the show.
And into the books it went.
And now the play’s the thing
That shines the Light on us all
And shows the heart for what it is—
And for what it could be.
And those who love the King of Kings
Become lesser kings themselves,
Quite on purpose,
And in honor of his greatness.
Like honorific Melchizedek himself,
They say, “My King is righteous!”
And it is they who walk
Into that Holy City
When it is their turn to leave here.
They have gone to where
They may be followed evermore
Into that great light.
