The Man Like The Sun

Judges ch 14: The Secret Feast

Do you have the stomach for a secret feast 
The courage to be led when a mystery speaks 
Ears to hear an ancient veil is torn, 
The honor to bear the truth that’s borne?

Draw near to a living Word - what will He say?
Ask, and perhaps the written road will rise
An unseen Hand will roll the stone away
To bathe your mind in light

When a dark saying invites you deeper still
To its shining city on a holy hill - 
With His clouded face and depths well disguised,
Will you believe what is right in your eyes?

And so was created a story for the world to explore
One day Samson looked far, far below his father’s front door:
He spotted a stranger, a beauty without hope and without God on the earth
“She cannot come to me,” he decided, “and so I will go down for her.”

“My son,” cried his mother, aware of all she’d been told,
“You are safe here! Why give your heart to lesser souls?”
But it was from The LORD, who crafted Samson in the dark of the deep
For a Legend set in motion, and with a promise to keep. 

But the only one truly in Samson’s heart
	Was Samson, Heaven-handed;
He was a man in love with his holy start
	And the strength he took for granted.
Incapable to see his crafted self:
	History’s finely tuned fate dancer
And unaware of his own story’s countless wealth...
	As he is the riddle, but not the Answer.

Enter the Lion, crouched in the vineyard and vines
Hidden to Samson on the written road to his bride.
Could there have been one worthy amongst the families of the circumcised
When all men have strayed, and none live right in Heaven's eyes?
It was of The LORD Samson shared himself with lesser souls
With purpose crouched inside this dark saying of old.
When God works, who can know it? Who can see unsearchable ways?
How does one reach the dawn of understanding 
          so far beneath such magnificent displays?
So, throw out both arms and bare your chest to On High,
For the hidden manna spoken by Heaven is a truth ready to strike;
Like a Lion in a vineyard is the strongest Man in these vines
The meat of the feast, and a word for the wise. 

Samson went down to Timnah, the world at his side
A great Lion awaited, marked to die in due time.
You see, a Nazirite in the vineyard was Samson 
          with a stone for a heart,
And an agent of God had charged him to be torn apart.
So, the Lion came roaring, His lips made ready for blood
(For all that is Holy, the imperfect is already judged)
But God planned a plan, and sent His Spirit to reveal
A foundation laid bare for a Servant who
           crushes Death with His wounded heel.
There were people with Samson, the Man Like The Sun
But they did not recognize the great victory won
When The Spirit rushed in for the pre-destined dance,
When the mercy of God was delivered through a little man with little hands,
When Samson struck the Lion…not recognizing who I am!
When the great Lion bowed His head and died as a young, 
          helpless little Lamb.

The Lion swallowed death in Samson’s own stead
And His offered body lay, given as Passover bread; 
The Spirit had led, thus the greater Story is told
The Lion struck down like a Lamb in a dark saying of old.

Yet Samson had no heart for his noble Lord
As these were days before the King;
The world not yet ripe to draw the Holy Sword
Despite the grand, planned offering.
And so the Secret Feast was said and served
That He would be recognized in time…
A faithful serving to be learned,
A history made with priceless bread and wine.
Since Samson’s tale is such a living Word
A meal to mine the soul
Incline an ear to the honey that you’ve heard
As He has more to say, in gold.

And the best of lambs, the noble Rock
The Answer from the secret place where thunder’s wrought;
Honey flowed, as blood of vineyard grapes
Offered freely from the Lion slain.
The Lion lay, spent and offered well
Meat and might of the strong-man’s noble tale;
Samson left the scene, but he would return
His mouth opened wide with a living Word.

Like a sun who never sleeps, a hidden light still shines;
And that which proves true runs deep, though the eye declines;
Samson marched to a wife who wouldn’t recognize her greatest friend - 
And he was certain she’d be given to the very best of men;
He trekked the road to lower lands
To find his woman of great worth;
His treasure in the fallen, desert sands,
Her value from the one who loved her, first.
He swung his arms, he sang a tune,
His charging shadow proud and bold;
Yet God had marked him, the doomed bridegroom
Destined to meet a heart gone cold.

They marched lower to the lowly lands
They saw her past the vines;
She was at a well in desert sands
A lowly maid marked to be a bride.
Bent over the wall, unable to help herself
Struggling at the stones of an ancient well
Cool water in the rock flowing beneath her feet
The sweetest drink just out of reach.

The other maids had come and gone
With no pity for a lowly life lived wrong;
They robbed the well of its easy depth
And now only unreachable water left
And what is life without water from the rock?
A dark day, indeed, without the relief she sought,
The lowly maid with arms too short to reach
Two hands over the well, with no hope for each
Her rope was short and her skin was weak
Empty hands standing at the deep.

Samson saw stars like gems on a crystal night
A clear constellation of only the purest light;
He saw a summer’s sunset to refresh the eyes
The colors of a diamond’s turn in bright sunlight;
He saw halos, doves, his hand in hers,
Her loving smile when he revealed her hidden worth;
And she was lovely, though a child of the dark,
A broken law with a cold stone for a heart.

His parents on the journey,
Wearied by the secrets that they held;
Of a spirit, they were thirsty
For good water at the well.

(Under construction)