Paul W Finch

^[1]

The martins have returned,

To the chimney in the gym.

The whippoorwills outside Coate,

Lift their nightly hymn.

While robins clean the bugs,

From Steere Hall’s central “rugs.”

Birds, birds, there’s such a pinch;

Scarbrough cottage even has a trailer for a Finch.

          – eab, 5/80

 

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^[1] Brother Finch (born in 1910) came by Christ College for at least three revivals between 1975-1985).  (He had a house trailer with him.)  While there he taught a two- week course for us on more than one occasion.  He is gone to heaven – God bless his memory.

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Victory Worth the Cross

A lone walnut chanced to drop upon the sod alone,

Where it seemed to lie and simply rot, quietly, forlorn.

Its form was changed, its symmetry gone.

Its kernel worthless to eat,

What an untimely end thus to met.

 

Deep inside its little heart new life was beginning.

Oh, for a fresh start (another game – not a new inning).

A root from it ranged, a shoot saw the dawn,

A tree, from apparent loss.

Victory is always worth the cross.  – eab, 1/16/78

Written while working with Christ College in Friendsville, TN  

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Faithful to Duty

If shepherds hadn’t been watching their charge,

As all good shepherds do.

If they hadn’t been dutifully faithful,

In spite of damp and dew.

If men of sheep hadn’t sheep-minded been,

The long winter night through;

They’d have missed that chorus grandly suspended,

Announcing centuries of prophecy ended,

In notes and quality, in minors and ranges, so large –

Masterfully blended.

 

If wise men hadn’t been looking upward,

As wise men want to do.

If ancient scholars hadn’t known the sky,

And humbly, knew, they knew.

If star-spangled men hadn’t known their flag,

The night that star first flew.

They’d have missed the invitation of all earth,

To rejoice in the King of Creation’s birth;

The astronomical discovery worthy of reward –

Announcing Royal worth.          – eab, 12/80

 

Written while I worked with Christ College and Christ Academy in East Tennessee.

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A Misrepresented Christ

A carpenter’s Son!  No, no, not that One.

Though of Joseph’s wife He was born.

Though a chisel He knew,

And when He used it chips flew,

He was to more than lumber adorn.

 

Nazareth, you say!  The answer is nay!

Though He lived there as a mere boy,

Though His sandals and feet,

Left their prints in its street.

Bethlehem was the city of first joy.

 

Joses’ Brother!  No, He’s some Other.

Though that is how it’s made to seem,

Though they had common blood,

One’s dad came from Adam’s “mud,”

The Other’s Father from beyond stars’ gleam.

 

An unlearned Rebel!  Nay, He was able

(Though He never sat in their schools

Though from doctor He’d not,

Learned their tittle and their jot)

He, time after time, corrected their rules.

 

Trials and a slur, contributions were,

Though Christ’s life had a constant tone,

Though anguished in His soul,

He held to His only goal,

And let false opinions die on their own.  –eab, 12/78

 

Written when I was working with Christ College and Christ Academy in Blount Co., TN.

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Christ, Commander

Before the fall of satanic force,

When lucifer fell from realms of right,

Christ was totally in charge, of course,

The Commander of pre-sunshine light.

 

When Eden and its surroundings greened,

Immediately, to the Master’s phrase.

From the Scriptures, it is easily gleaned,

Christ was there, in His Creative days.

 

When Christ, the Commoner, graced the stall,

The sheep, nor their shepherds understood,

That the coming of this Newborn, small,

Would be to all humanities good.

 

Many years there lived and labored hard,

The Carpenter of Nazareth town.

Learned the trade without quota or card,

Before He laid all the mallets down.

 

Christ the Compassionate, He became;

Easing the ill ones, touching the blind,

Going where mortals were halt or lame,

Leaving a trail of walkers behind.

 

Sinful men rejected His teaching.

They schemed, and connived and even lied.

Pilate’s water could do no bleaching,

When Jesus died: Christ the Crucified.

 

The grave was guarded.  The stone? Immense.

Even the Roman seal was in place.

Then Christ, the Conqueror, came from hence,

Vanquishing death, when met face to face.

 

He came, He left, He will soon appear,

Forever, to be in fullest charge!

Christ the Commander, without a fear,

Ruling then, the universe-at-large.

 

Commander, Creator, Commoner,

Carpenter, Compassionate, all five.

Crucified, and then death’s Conqueror,

Without which there’d be no hope alive.

 

Commander again as once before;

The difference?  The life He lived with man.

That Gift man commemorates of yore.

Praise Him, Laud Him, for this wondrous plan. –eab, 12/76

 

Written while pastor of Christ Church-Bible Methodist and Associate Director of Christ College and Christ Academy, Friendsville, TN. 

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Christmas Alphabet

Christmas is more than an attitude,

            It is an awesome, appreciated action.

Christmas is more than a beatitude,

            It is a bountiful baptism of Blessing.

Christmas is more than commerce,

            It is the Christ child, commencing.

Christmas is more than a diversion,

            It is a Divine, daring Donation.

Christmas is more than an event,

            It is the encouraging entry to Eternity.

Christmas is more than a folly,

            It is the final fulfillment of Fidelity.

Christmas is more than genteelment,

            It is the grand Goodness of glory.

Christmas is more than holly,

            It is a hallowed, Holy harmony.

Christmas is more than an incident,

            It is an including, impelling Invitation.

Christmas is more than jolliness,

            It is Joseph with Jesus, journeying.

Christmas is more than a kaleidoscope,

            It is the kindly, knowledgeable King.

Christmas is more than lovely,

            It is a lighting, lifting, life-Love.

Christmas is more than monumental,

            It is multitudes of millennia moving.

Christmas is more than a nicety,

            It is a need, now and never ending.

Christmas is more than official,

            It is One, omnipotent Offering.

Christmas is more than perennial,

            It is a precious, personal Presentation.

Christmas is more than quantity,

            It is the quiet quintessence of Quality.

Christmas is more than a roast-corn rope,

            It is the Right, revealed religiously.

Christmas is more than a sensation,

            It is Salvation for souls in sincerity.

Christmas is more than tinsel,

            It is Triumph, truly and totally.

Christmas is more than the unusual,

            It is the unprecedented, urgent Union.

Christmas is more than a vacation,

            It is a vicarious Victory of valuing.

Christmas is more than wanting,

            It is a wandering world wondering.

Christmas is more than a xylophone,

            It is a xiphod, xyster, xenium.

Christmas is more than yearning,

            It is the yielding of a yeanling, you.

Christmas is more than a zest zone,

            It is the zenith of zeal in Zion.

Christmas is more than an Alphabet,

            It is Alpha & Omega, the Beginning & the Ending.

                        – eab, 12/4&5/76

 

Penned while pastoring Christ Church and working with Christ College in Friendsville, Tennessee.

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Milkweed Pod

 

Life is like the milkweed pod;

Head in the air, roots in the sod,

Tender in youth, stiffer with age,

Little in green, older in beige.

Seeds are like years, sprinkled to the wind,

The start known; unknown the fluffy end.

Life is like the milkweed pod. 

 

  -eab, 10/82

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Written while at Christ College and Academy,Friendsville,Tennessee 

 

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