Christ Our Champion

Among a race of fallen men
Stood One alone and Tall,
Who ran with God in paths untrod,
Twixt them there grew no wall.

He was a Stranger to our world.
Of that I need not tell.
His mission was to conquer giants-
These, sin and death and hell.

How would He war with three such foes?
Take sword and run them through?
For they were not of flesh and bone,
Who the Son was to undo.

In Spirit would the battle go,
So the enemy did err,
Taking nail and spear to run Christ through,
While laughing at the Fair.

Then they heard that it was finished,
But little did they know,
That when they drew the Precious Blood,
Life began to Flow.

It flowed out to the nations,
God's war plan from Above.
For Christ came not to win by might,
But by the Sacrifice of Love.

And soon the roar of battle ceased,
With wounds to both, it's said.
For the Son had bruised His heel
As He crushed the Serpent's head.

Victory over evil!
A New Prince upon the earth!
But for this Man and a Wondrous plan
There'd be no second Birth.

O Champion of the human race!
Who is likened unto You?
You heard the Call, You took the Fall.
And You'll make creation New.

J. Pecoraro