Kevin Hartnett Poetry

And Love Ever Echoes

Oh where might the voice of God be heard, 

And truth in fullness displayed? 

Was there such a place in all the earth 

His message was so conveyed? 

 

It was there on a hill beside the lake, 

He proclaimed what would set men free; 

And love echoed out across the land 

From Jesus of Galilee. 

 

****** 

 

And where might the prayer of God be known, 

Immortal conflict portrayed? 

Was e're such a place in all the earth 

A battle for spirits raged? 

 

It was there on a hill of olive groves 

He looked death in the face for me; 

And love echoed loudly in the night 

From Christ at Gethsemane. 

   

****** 

 

Oh where might the love of God be shown, 

In all its riches displayed? 

Was there such a place in all the earth 

Divine love should be surveyed? 

 

It was there on a hill outside the gate, 

It was there, meant for all to see, 

And love ever echoes in the earth 

From Jesus at Calvary.  

 

-- K. Hartnett, March 2006 

If He Had Faltered Even Once

They spit upon His meekness, 

And struck Him in the face. 

Their floggers swung with hatred; 

They stripped Him in disgrace. 

Deep worked the Roman anger 

That tortured Him, a Jew; 

Yet this His contemplation: 

“They know not what they do.” 

 

His people cheered “Hosanna,” 

Then had Him crucified. 

They freed corrupt Barabbas; 

To sentence Him, they lied. 

He hung outside their city, 

Where leaders mocked Him too; 

Yet this, the hurt He carried: 

“I would have gathered you.” 

 

No angels came to help Him 

When Heaven on Him fell. 

The Devil tried to reach Him 

Through ev’ry lie in hell. 

Unthinkable the anguish 

As Father crushed the Son, 

Yet this His firm conviction: 

“Thy will, not mine, be done.” 

 

No selfishness, no hatred, 

No spitefulness was there. 

No unbelief, no cursing, 

No pity from despair. 

One sinful thought; one failure, 

And Love would not succeed. 

The ransomed souls of hist’ry 

Must His perfection plead. 

 

If He had faltered even once, 

In flames of hell would men abide. 

Then ponder Christ, and praise at length 

The strength of Him there crucified. 

   

-- K. Hartnett, May 2007

 

I wrote this one backwards, i.e. having the idea for the last four lines before writing the rest.  Verse one highlights Christ's physical sufferings; verse two, His emotional/mental and verse three, His spiritual.  The colossal irony that the very men who tempted Him to failure were among those He died in perfection to save captures my imagination - and praise.

 

We Esteemed Him Not

We esteemed Him not,

Nor sorrowed in our shame;

His suffering, our redemption wrought;

Yet we thought Him to blame.

We esteemed Him not;

Despised His bloodied face;

How foreign any notion that

In love He took our place! 

 

We regarded not

Our wickedness and guilt,

Nor recognized the Gift of God

Whose precious blood was spilt.

He regarded not,

Rejection, hate, and pride,

But offered up for sinful men

His hands, His feet, and side.

 

We esteemed Him not;

What thankless creatures, we!

Forsaking Him, our Blessed Hope,

The Christ, at Calvary!

Mocking while He bore

The stripes we should have worn,

We spurned His silent sacrifice,

And hurled on Him our scorn.

 

Lord, remember not

My spittle in Your beard;

Forgive the savage words, O God,

In hatred that I jeered.

Now, and ever more,

Your cross may I embrace;

Forever humbly honoring

The wonder of Your grace.

 

-- K. Hartnett, June 1999

 

He was despised and rejected by men, a man of sorrows, and familiar with suffering.  Like one from whom men hide their faces He was despised, and we esteemed Him not.  (Isaiah 53:3)

This poem grew out of my meditation on Isaiah 53- a section of scripture I was memorizing with my children.  The 'poetry' of verse three particularly struck me.  Here Isaiah who lived hundreds of years before Christ, prophesies of Him in the past tense and includes himself - as if somehow projected into the future- with the statement '...we esteemed Him not.'  The inescapable sense of the text is that we all - past, present, and future, are responsible for Christ's death.  "All we, like sheep, have gone astray, and the Lord has laid on Him the iniquity of us all."

 

Prince of Peace; Thou Glorious Rider

Prince of Peace,

Thou Glorious Rider,

Leading forth the justified-

Heaven's Highest; Mankind's Finest;

Son of God; Triumphant Man.

 

How we praise You, Great Redeemer!

How we bless Your sacrifice!

You have wholly done the labor,

Bridging earth and Paradise!

 

 

Prince of Peace,

Thou Faithful Servant,

Humbly leaving glory by;

Come to bear the wrath of sinners;

Hammered on a cross to die.

 

How we thank You Selfless Savior!

How Your crown we so defiled!

You gave up Your life and blood that

God and man be reconciled.

 

 

Prince of Peace,

Thou First in Love, Who

Leads to life the lost and strayed.

Ever seeking, ever calling;

Shepherd of the souls You saved.

 

How we love You, Gracious Savior!

How we need You, Love Divine!

You, our Blessed Mediator,

Prince of Peace, all praise be Thine!

 

--K. Hartnett, June 1996

 

I used a lot of capitalized words in this poem - many more than I usually do.  Somehow they just seem more appropriate to me as each of the spots seems more like a title than just a description.  Christ incarnates every perfection.  In this sense, He owns every glorious title.

The reference to "Rider" comes from biblical images such as in Deut. 33:26, Psalm 68:33, Psalm 104:3 and Revelation 19:11.

I liked the second part of verse one enough to reuse it as the chorus in Jesus Christ, Our Great Redeemer

 

Jesus Christ, Our Great Redeemer!

Christ, the Humble, we adore You, 

Son Eternal, sent to save; 

Grasping not to heaven’s glory; 

Prince of Life, placed in a grave! 

Well might brilliant angels marvel; 

Devils too, not comprehend: 

Christ, Transcendent Praise of Heaven, 

Sacrificed for sinful men! 

 

Christ, the Faithful, we extol You, 

Steward of the Father’s plan; 

Second Adam, come as Savior, 

Ardent Son and Sinless Man. 

What temptations You contested; 

Awful punishments withstood!   

You accomplished Heaven’s purpose: 

To the evil, bringing good. 

 

Christ, the Victor, we exalt You; 

Lord above all other names! 

Satan’s rule on earth is broken; 

Death compelled to drop its claims! 

Everything the Law demanded 

You completed perfectly; 

By Your blood, received in heaven, 

We are found forever free! 

 

Jesus Christ, our great Redeemer, 

Thank You for Your sacrifice! 

You have wholly done the labor, 

Bridging earth and paradise!

 

--K. Hartnett, October 2003

I believe this poem could make a good hymn or song.  I welcome the collaboration of those who have musical gifts to set this, or one of my other texts to song.  Ones that I believe are particularly suitable for singing are in the category called "Song Potential."  Humble, faithful, and victorious- we truly have a great Savior!

 

And Then...

I saw them lift that awful tree, 

And then His face came clear-

The beating by the Roman guards

Had plainly been severe. 

His fabled, otherworldly eyes

Swelled thin from blows to them; 

And then the soldiers cursed the Jews,

And spit on Him again. 

 

He pulled and then He seized a breath,

And fell back from the pain. 

A trickle from His punctured brow 

Raced past His tongue in vain. 

So many times I’d heard Him speak; 

So much He taught seemed true...

And then- I’m not sure why- He said:

“They know not what they do.” 

 

The soldiers sat, and then began 

To gamble for His cloak. 

That some who touched it had been healed

Was bandied as a joke. 

“He lies,“ the leaders said, and then

Insulted Him in spite;

But I had seen it with my eyes- 

And knew that they weren’t right.

 

Two criminals were there as well,

Both being crucified.

They joined the others mocking that

The Christ would thus have died.

And then one seemed to soften-

Like he feared to God his vice.

He prayed, and then from Jesus

There was promised Paradise.

 

And then the countryside grew dark;

The ground began to shake;

And even the Centurion,

Great dread did overtake.

We heard Him cry, “It’s finished!” as

The earth howled in defraud,

And then we knew for certain that

This was the Son of God.

 

I searched for His disciples hard,

And then we heard it said:

“An angel’s told the women

He has risen from the dead!”

And so I sold all that I owned

And joined their company,

For He “would see them when He rose,”

And then, “in Galilee.”

 

-- K. Hartnett, April 2002

I carried the words "and then" around in my spirit for a long time before I got an idea for how to use them.  The poem obviously tells the story of the crucifixion, but also carries along a different story - the testimony of one gradually seeing and understanding that Christ was indeed the Son of God - and what effect that should have on living and believing.  Every Christian has their own "and then" story of God's gracious enlightenment and their response of faith and commitment.

And In That Darkened Fluid Red

They rose beneath His punctured brow

And trickled quickly down His face.

Repulsion at the sheer disgrace

Made Jewish faithful disallow

That here the blood of sacrifice

Was dripping into dusty ground,

And underneath that twisted crown-

The greatest gift one could endow.

It was indeed a mystery,

Though not for lack of plain discourse;

And miracles did sure endorse

His claims as more than sophistry, 

Yet somehow deafness struck the ear,

And eyes, though open, bluntly failed

To see the limbs there cruelly nailed

Shed life for all humanity.

 

The Law prescribed it long before-

An offering to cover sin.

But slaughtered sheep could scarce begin

To empty God’s expunging store.

The want in ev’ry human act-

But worse than that- each motive there

Came boldly naked; unaware

What Holy eyes could but abhor.

 

Unclear then was the cost at hand,

Or that one Figure could suffice

To pay for the accounted vice

Of all who failed the Law’s demand.

‘Twas Him alone- the Pascal Lamb-

Who, blemish free, would there atone

And bear the wrath of God alone

To ransom sinners- just as planned.

 

And so we gaze into the cup,

Remembering that fateful day

A fellow sinner would betray

The Blessed One with whom he supped.

And in that darkened fluid red,

Our full reflection may we see-

That pressing to the cross may we

Be sprinkled clean by looking up.

-- K. Hartnett, May 2006

I read a poem that used a similar rhyming scheme and was captivated by the challenge of doing something like it.  It was definitely a challenge, but I'm happy with the result.

 
In verse three, I liken being startled by a naked person to the reaction- greatly oversimplified and weakened- of God to human sin.  His holiness is afronted by it in a way we simply can't fully understand.  A preacher once compared the stench of human sin in God's nostrils to the stench we smell when walking through the pig house at a state fair.  Those who work in the house get so used to it, they don't really mind it- or notice it - but an outsider sure does!  God is outside even the slightest hint of sin.  How it must affect Him!

 

Naked and Alone, Hung the Son of God

Gruesome as a kill, 

Bent His bloodied form. 

Taunting passers-by 

Moved away in scorn. 

Furtive, ugly dogs 

Circled for His blood. 

Naked and alone, 

Hung the Son of God. 

 

Hated by His foes, 

Frightful to His friends; 

Torn by whip and thorns; 

Spit upon His head; 

Heinous pagan nails 

Pounded in each hand; 

Helpless, but resolved, 

Held the Son of Man. 

 

“I must drink the cup.” 

“God’s will must be done.” 

“This, His righteous plan; 

I, His blessed Son.” 

Anguished, longing eyes 

Besought the Father’s love; 

Then the Father looked, 

And crushed the Son of God. 

 

O magnify the Lamb 

Who bravely paid the price, 

And walked the path alone 

To brutal sacrifice. 

His work commands the praise 

Of all whose breath there be, 

And shouts the grace of God 

Into eternity. 

 

 

A contemplation on Psalm 22. 

Kevin Hartnett, June 2001 

 

 

My God, my God, why have you forsaken me? 

Why are you so far from saving me, so far from the words of my groaning?...  

Do not be far from me, for trouble is near and there is no one to help. 

(Psalm 22:1,11)

 

I read someplace that the Jewish meter of lament was the meter of five syllables.  While I don't know Hebrew, and can't say whether this is correct or not, it gave me the idea for the meter of this poem - eight lines of five syllables.  The alert reader will notice that the final stanza is eight lines of six syllables.  To help the ear make the transition from the third stanza to the final one, I made the meter of the third stanza: 5-5-5-5-5-6-5-6.  I think the poetic thought of last stanza may be among my finest.

Mercy Triumphs Over Judgment

"Mercy triumphs over Judgment" 

Glory in this truth revealed! 

Love Incarnate stood the torment; 

Adam's punishment repealed! 

 

"Mercy triumphs over Judgment" 

Hope for mankind, once secured. 

He who knew no sinful nature, 

Wrath for sinners full endured. 

 

O the range of mankind's offense! 

Gross his sins, and sentence sure; 

Holiness required the verdict- 

Death forever; justice pure. 

 

Yet a Perfect Love responded, 

Purposing an ancient plan, 

Fully meeting wrath's requirement, 

While compassion off'ring man. 

 

There from on the Mercy Seat, the 

Son of Righteousness arose; 

Cursed 'came He whose Name is Holy; 

On Him fell our rightful blows. 

 

"Mercy triumphs over Judgment" 

Mankind's sentence now appealed; 

From the holy God offended, 

Righteousness has been revealed! 

 

Glory to the Justifier! 

Praise His great and gracious plan; 

Bless the holy love of God, 

Who gave His Son to ransom Man!

 

 

K. Hartnett, 1998

 

I consider the format of this poem to be somewhat like a musical sonata, with an opening statement followed by a development section and ending with a final, elaborated restatement - a sort of ABA overall design.

 

The poem was inspired by James 2:13 where I believe the Apostle James had the gospel in mind, even though he was addressing our conduct in interpersonal relationships. I remember having writers block for months after writing the first stanza. It just didn't seem to 'go' anywhere.  In the end, it's probably one of the clearest presentations of the gospel I've put in any poem.  I've read it a number of times during our worship services. 

 

 

How Awesome Is That Day to Me

How awesome is that day to me- 

O day of hallowed history! 

Set time in God’s determined plan 

To sacrifice the Son of Man. 

What famous work that day was done  

By Jesus Christ, His Perfect Son! 

The Second Adam, sent to save, 

Humbly obeying to the grave! 

 

How savage is that day to me- 

O day of pure brutality! 

When Christ, the Son of God Most High, 

Was fiercely whipped and hung to die. 

And O the horror of my sin, 

Seen there in His appalling skin! 

For God struck down- as meant for me- 

The sinless One, at Calvary. 

 

How precious is that day to me-

O day of purchased liberty!

In Him, a freeman now I live;

My sins, through death, did God forgive.

No wrath at length looms o’er my head,

But lovingkindness there instead. 

His righteousness, my guilt replaced, 

And Love, this ransomed soul embraced!

 

O awesome, savage, precious day- 

‘Tis God the Savior on display! 

What peerless, holy, gracious Mind 

Would fashion such a Grand Design?

 

 

-- K. Hartnett, September 2001

 

The idea for this poem came to me during a devotional time over lunch.  I remember thinking that I hadn't written anything for a while and desired to write something hymn-like.  This was the result - a poem that 'came' very quickly - in just a few days.  I initially thought it should have additional stanzas, but left it at three so that it was short enough to be read in a worship service and not get boring.  I think it actually could be set to music, but perhaps with a different, less contemplative chorus.