A Great Religion

Outward form and ceremony
May a great religion make,
But you'd better trust in Jesus Christ,
Who died for your sins' sake.
Lighting candles and chanting prayers
Makes an impressive outward show,
But if you want the peace of sins forgiven,
To Jesus you must go.
The worship of a bit of bread,
Though it be called the Host,
Will not suffice to cleanse from sin
Nor to please the Holy Ghost.
Worldly priests, though richly robed,
With God can't intercede,
But Jesus Christ, the Great High Priest,
Can meet your every need.

a. franklin staples

September 22-October 1, 1996





Copyright © 1996 by A. Franklin Staples

Only One “STAR”

There is only one "STAR" on the great stage of life;
He's Jesus, God's Son, the One who's called Christ.
All the rest are but "extras" whose appearance is brief,
With "bit parts" here and there, none of them chief.
Yes, some prima donnas appear on Time's stage
But their voices are soon silenced by death and the grave;
Their worldly fame vanishes like a vapour of smoke
And soon are forgotten the vain words that they spoke,
But the Word of our God forever endures.
His promises are true and His judgment is sure;
His STAR is eternal; there's none other so bright
As Jesus, God's Son, the Way, Truth and Life!

a. franklin staples

August 11-18, 1996


Copyright © 1996 by A. Franklin Staples

But Some Doubted...

"But some doubted," and so it is today;
"But some doubted."  That's what the Scriptures say.
Some among the followers, of those who'd been with Christ
Doubted what they'd seen and heard of the One who gave them life.

"But some doubted," didn't believe their eyes;
"But some doubted," believed instead the Devil's lies,
Though they'd seen the mighty pow'r of God
In the miracles He had done,
Yet the road of doubt they firmly trod
And rejected God's Holy One.

a. franklin staples

Copyright © 1996 by A. Franklin Staples

Works Alone Will Not Avail

The law required works;
Grace is freely given.
‘Tis not by works but by God’s grace
That men will enter heaven.

Nay, ‘tis not by works that men may do,
For works will not avail;
Through naught but the blood of Jesus Christ
Will men pass through the veil.

a. franklin staples
October 27, 1996

© 1996 by A. Franklin Staples

Don’t Let Me Be Proud...

I’m thankful to be a Christian, Lord,
But don’t let me be proud,
For pride is of the adversary
And must not be allowed.
Let me not be proud, Lord,
Of what I’ve done or be,
For all I have and am, Lord,
You have given me.
Nay, let me not be proud, Lord,
Of the way that I’ve been blest,
For if I was on my own, Lord,
I’d never pass the test.
I’d stumble on my own, Lord,
And oft would lose my way
If You weren’t there to guide me
Through each and every day.
Yes, on my own I’m nothing, Lord,
But a sinner, helpless, lost,
Condemned to hell by my own sin,
By earth’s every tempest toss’d.
Proud, Lord? Proud of what?
That I’m but a sinner born?
There’s naught I have or am, Lord,
That I’ve accomplished on my own.

a. franklin staples
October 20, 1996

© 1996 by A. Franklin Staples

Be Still And Know That I AM God...

“Be still and know that I AM God.”
That’s what the Father says,
And as life’s weary way we trod,
We must heed, for so He is.

Too oft we think that many words
A fervent prayer doth make,
When what we need is just to be still
To hear God when He speaks.

Too oft we pray just to be heard
By those who linger near,
When we needs be in our closet, friend,
To pray that God may hear.

“Be still and know that I AM God.”
No idle words are these,
But precious, true, eternal words
That should bring us to our knees.

“Be still and know that I AM God,”
Says the God who answers prayer,
And as life’s weary way we trod,
Will all our burdens bear.

a. franklin staples
October 13, 1996

© 1996 by A. Franklin Staples

Nothing But the Blood of Jesus

“Nothing but the Blood of Jesus,”
Say the words of that precious old hymn,
Yes, “nothing but the Blood of Jesus”
Can wash away all of my sin.
But hymns don’t speak of the Blood anymore,
Nor mention that dear precious Name,
The name of Jesus, my Saviour and Lord,
Who bore all of my sin and my shame.
“What can wash away my sin?”
The answer still is the same:
The pure cleansing flood of my dear Saviour’s blood,
God’s pure, precious Lamb who was slain,
Slain on that old cross on that dark lonely hill
At the place that was called Calvary,
Where the Son of God died on that cross, crucified,
That from sin’s curse I should ever be free.
No, hymns don’t speak of the blood anymore,
Nor of sin, degradation nor shame,
Nor of worms such as I, unworthy, condemned,
Was it not for God’s Lamb who was slain.
The hymns being written are so politically correct,
Full of vain repetitions of phrase,
That one wonders what happened to the blackness of sin
From which mankind must be saved.
Yes, nothing but the Blood of Jesus
Can wash away all of man’s sin,
And there is no other way to come unto God
Than to come, dear friend, by Him.

a. franklin staples
January 12, 1997

© 1997 by A. Franklin Staples