Why do we think ourselves
immune to failures of the past?
Why do we think that ever
with Christ we long will last?
Why do we not consider
we might in darkest night
Like Judas from the dinner
take betrayal’s lonely flight?
Why is it not so likely
that ‘fore the crowing bird
The crowds who stand beside us
hear our denying word?
Or would we like the others
who followed Jesus long
Run off into the night
at first sight of a throng?
Or maybe we like elders
sit in the judgment seat,
And by the break of first light
condemn him to defeat?
What pride and arrogance
thinks us not one of them,
When with each breath of grace
we, in sin, self condemn?
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