Originally Posted by SeattleUte
The poem set forth below is apparently making the rounds in some Mormon circles. Mormons' attraction to it speaks volumes. First, demonstating the lack of clear thinking about their own system of beliefs. The poem clearly was authored by a fundamentalist protestant Christian. How do I know? Well, the author being from Franklin, TN is my first clue. But the clincher is Jesus carrying a timeless book inscribed in its pages the names of people destined to be saved from the beginning of time. That an elect few are predestined to be saved by grace is of course a pillar of Calvinist protestantism. But, as is clear from this forum, it's not clear where Mormonism stands on this issue.
Also, many Mormons love their art cheesy; the cheesier the better. But the poem is beyond cheesy--the conflation of the idea of a Second Coming with a famous poem about Santa Claus coming is unwitting irony sufficient to make a hard headed skeptic howl with laughter.
Twas the Night before Jesus Came
A poem transcribed from a CD released
by Milk & Honey, Franklin, TN
Twas the night before Jesus came, and all through the house,
Not a creature was praying, not one in the house.
Their Bibles were put on the shelf without care,
In hopes that Jesus would never come there.
The children were dressing to crawl into bed,
Without ever kneeling or bowing a head.
Mom in her rocker with Sue on her lap,
Was watching the Late Show while I took a nap.
When out of the East there rose such a clatter,
I sprang to my feet to see what was the matter.
Away to the window I flew like a flash,
Tore open the shutters and threw up the sash.
When what to my wondering eyes should appear,
But angels proclaiming that Jesus was here.
With a light like the sun sending forth a bright ray,
I knew in a moment this must be the day.
The light of His face made me cover my head,
It was Jesus, returning just like He said.
And though I possessed worldly wisdom and wealth,
I cried when I saw Him in spite of myself.
In the Book of Life which He held in His hand,
Was written the name of every saved man. [person]
He spoke not a word as He searched for my name,
When He said "It's not Here," my head hung in shame.
The people whose names had been written with love,
He gathered to take to His Father above.
With those who were ready, He rose with no sound,
While all the rest were left on the ground.
I fell to my knees but it was too late;
I'd waited too long and thus sealed my fate.
I stood and I cried as they rose out of sight;
Oh, if only we'd been ready tonight!
In the words of this poem the meaning is clear:
The coming of Jesus is drawing near.
There's only one life; when comes the last call;
We'll find that the Bible was true after all.
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10-18-2006, 11:48 PM
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