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The Church of All Nations

The Church of All Nations

Therein at Mount Olivet in Jerusalem,
Where eight ancient, gnarled olive trees are pressed for oil,
People of faith the world over come to accoil,
For mercy in atonement for their transgressions. 

And worship the Lord in the Church of All Nations:
Located in the Garden of Gethsemane,
Across the Brook Kidron, o’er the Rock Agony.
Where did Christ sweat blood, praying to God in Heaven.

Under the twelve domed roof basilica structure;—
Light filters through purplish alabaster windows,
On believers at the altar making avows,
And Christians at Mass of all denominations.

That night years ago brimmed with hope and so tranquil;
Jesus prayed. — “They are here!” His disciples asleep,
And was betrayed with a Judas kiss on the cheek,
Then falsely arrested by the forces of evil.

Peter drew the sword and was rebuked by the Lord.
Then all forsook Him and fled; even 'one naked'.
At a distance, Peter followed and remembered;
“As the cock crows, thrice you shall deny me!” And wept.

In this world of commerce, it’s easy to dismiss:
God the Father and God Incarnate unblemished.
Those olive trees attest to Jesus’s existence;—
The Trinity and His promise of forgiveness.

Copyright © Dennis Spilchuk