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 In a very real sense, as Christ shouldered the Cross and suffered upon it, He used the Cross to open the way to our salvation, like a door.  This poem imagines the wood of the cross being made into a door, something on which one may meditate.  As a carpenter's son albeit the son of Joseph who took care of Him as a father it seems an appropriate and fitting thought.  Woven in is some Biblical history, when the Israelites smeared blood on the lintel and escaped death. JR

The Door of the Cross

Upon the cross they hung Him from,
And fixed Him there, to succumb,
The
y pounded nails to hold Him fast,
His limbs outstretched, while His agony last.

There He hung, His hands unfree,
In pain for us, upon that tree...

Thus suffered Jesus the Christ,
Who upon the wood was sacrificed;
The carpenter's son of time afore,
From its wood
                   He now made a door.
                     
           ―The portal of salvation,
              And open to every nation!       
              The door of holy Grace,
              An entry to the holy place!

The horizontal limbs, like a lintel o'er,
And the vertical holding His torso before:
To the stipes upright, his legs were nailed
:
Les jambe in French, were there impaled.

Imagine how they suspended Him,
Like a carcass h
anging from trunk and limb;
And imagine the standing timber, now cleft,
To make doorposts, both right and left.:

It harkens back to Testament Old
When blood was sprinkled on lintel of yore,
Stay inside the Israelites were told:
Till morning come, leave not before.

The angel of death would pass them by
And leave untouched the Hebrew first born;
But Egypt's
born, these first would die --
And for their children,
would Egypt mourn.

The Blood on the lintel of the Cross of Christ,
Was spilt when He was sacrificed!
His Blood
there left is a sign on the Cross,
Of a pass
over to eternal life!
 
                                     
                                                   John Riedell

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