Misunderstanding: Psalm 50

“Duty,” calls the holy man,
“Sacrifice is God’s sole plan.
Stoic must I walk each day
If to God I’ll find my way.
Daily toil pleases him,
Trudging plow, a life so grim.
Head cast down with dragging feet
Hope that works my sins defeat.”

Ground of works begins to shake.
Looking ’round the full earth quakes.
Lifting up my lowly eye,
Beauty’s form in fortress high.
Judgment’s fire him before
Clouds and tempest near him soar.
Voice like mighty sea calls out
Clear his words like trumpet shout,

“Stop your grudging sacrifice
All your work will ne’er suffice.
Do you think I need a thing
That to me you sadly bring?
Joy I’ve wanted in your life
From your lips thanksgiving rife.
And your ways on paths so pure
With my truth that guides you sure.”

When I looked in beauty’s face
Over me poured out his grace.
Nothing that I’d ever done
Had salvation from him won.
Only did he want from me
Thanks for all and purity.
His salvation is a gift
Only he can bridge the rift.

Someday close to him I’ll walk.
Intimately will we talk.
He will tell me of his love
And his Father high above.
But before that day I know
Through the fire I must go.
Burning dross from broken soul
By his fire I’m made whole.