The following poem was originally written for Lent, but it is timeless for exiles as all Christians are until Christ returns, for surely “the heart of the wise is in the house of mourning” (Eccles. 7:4) until that day of the new Jerusalem.
Canticle of the Catacombs
When through Thy Halls the choric Angels chant
And coax from Lyres of gold their gladsome Sound
Dost Thou overhear another, sadder Note
Which, rising o’er the Angels soft resounds?
And dost Thou turn Thy Face away and shun
All Heaven’s Glories but to hear the Song
Of Spirits formed from broken Clay that cry
That Thou, O Father, heal their sin-welped Wrongs?
And is it that these desperate Songs that rise
Forth not from angel’s Gold but mournful Gloom
Yet seem to Thee more precious than the Light
Thy Son beheld when risen from His Tomb?
For sweeter far than These, though Angels, be
The Bones, the Ash, the Dust, that reverence Thee?
© Colin Harker Reprinted by permission
“You were washed, you were sanctified, you were justified in the name of the Lord Jesus Christ and by the Spirit of our God (1 Cor. 6:11).