1 min read

At The Pulpit 🏆

A weighty presence filled the room; All eyes were fixed on Him. He caref’lly rolled the sacred text Each movement, not a whim.
At The Pulpit  🏆
Photo by Taylor Flowe / Unsplash

Men gathered in the synagogue,
A custom of the Jews,
The day of Sabbath rest had come
For worshiping Hebrews.

Ascending to the sacred desk,
His eyes the room perused.
This is My Father’s house, He mused,
That one day they’ll abuse.

“A carpenter in Nazareth,
We know his family well.”
“I’ve heard his cousin served as priest.”
“Around the man crowds swell.”

The ancient scroll was handed Him,
Isaiah’s text to read.
Acquainted with the truth contained,
For script, He had no need.

He held the ancient oracles,
The treasured, wondrous scrolls;
The Spirit-breathed words in His hands
Spoke life to all men’s souls.

He placed the scrolls upon the desk
And reached for his tallit.
"Your Law I love, Your Words are Mine,"
Now covered head replete.

This humble servant’s finger scanned
The parchment right to left;
A passage He began to read
With excellence and deft.

The Spirit of the Lord Most High
Has now anointed Me
To preach the good news to the poor,
The broken-hearted heal
.

To preach deliv’rance to those bound,
The bruised grant liberty
To give sight to the blinded eyes
Proclaiming Jubilee.


A weighty presence filled the room;
All eyes were fixed on Him.
He caref’lly rolled the sacred text
Each movement, not a whim.

Today this scripture is fulfilled
They marveled at the sight,
Revealing zeal and fervor as
His heart passions ignite.

Men gathered in the synagogue
A custom of the Jews;
The day of Sabbath rest had come
For worshiping Hebrews.

Behind a sacred desk, He stood
The scrolls in holy hands;
And still this day His voice is heard
With pow’r throughout the land.