Christ the Borrower
God laid Him in a borrowed womb,
Men laid Him in a borrowed tomb;
His life was borrow, borrow.
He had no pillow for His head,
A stone He borrowed then instead,
He borrowed fish for dinner.
A cup He borrowed from a dame
Despite her rather sordid name,
To help that thirsty sinner.
A borrowed boat from which to preach-
A borrowed mount on which to teach-
No time for fun or leisure.
He borrowed once a lowly penny,
Since of His own He hadn’t any,
For each belonged to Caesar.
He rode upon a borrowed ass
That prophecy might come to pass,
No horse or golden carriage.
A room He borrowed to celebrate
His last meal, and anticipate
The supper of His marriage.
He borrowed (staggering to the mind)
The whole vast sin of humankind,
Our sacrifice to be;
The Spotless One Who did such good
Was hammered to some borrowed wood
With scarce an eye to pity.
His life was filled with “borrow, borrow,”
Acquainted with grief, this Man of Sorrow,
Deserted by His friends.
They laid Him in a borrowed grave,
The Christ, the Mighty still to save-
With death His “borrow” ends!
For soon, ah soon, the Victor rose
Triumphant over death and foes,
All power and principality.
Who borrowed, borrows now no more,
Triumphant then and evermore,
The Lord of all eternity.
He “was” before the world began-
This Son of God was Son of Man,
But now He reigns forever.