Poem: The Redeemer

By Dr. Stephen E. Jones

(December 11, 2001)

With every dull methodic chop

The ancient hoe broke more new ground.

With dusty puffs and sweated drops

Of labor flowing from his crown,

The prisoner, bound by debts too strong

For hope, groaned inwardly in pain.

Yet on a distant hill of Wrong,

As the beating sun began to wane,

Two businessmen discussed his fate.

“I will not sell my slave to you

At any price, at any date.”

The other was determined, too.

“You have no choice; the law is clear,

For I am of near kin to him.

What ere the debt, however dear,

I’ll pay with silver, life, or limb.”

The crafty owner of the slave

Smiled to himself and said with a leer,

“He owes me his life; if you are so brave,

Will you lay down your life by the law you hold dear?

There’s only your life I’d rather possess

Than this dirty creature who works my field.”

“If that is the price, I’ll gladly say yes,

For he is my kin, and to the law I’ve appealed.

But as his redeemer, I too demand

That his field come with him and all he once had.

The law gives me right over all his land.

My life is worth more than all things—good or bad.”

The bargain, concluded, was sealed by his word.

The servants of sin nailed his hands to a tree.

They taunted him loudly, but his ears only heard

His kinsman rejoicing at being set free.

A story that ends with love in a grave

Saddens the heart and moistens the eyes.

Our kinsman redeemer, though, rose from the cave

To live with his kinsman where neither one dies