Who is He,
Who do we say He Is?
The question confronts us,
And we must answer.

Do we follow the teachings
Of Marcion, with his canon
Of edited texts and missing
Epistles, who knew that God
Would not deign to become man,
Nor could the Word be made
Flesh to dwell among us?

Who is He?
We cannot ignore this question,
It stares us in the face,
We must say Who He Is.

Shall we throw our lot
With Arius, who knew that
He may be a man, indeed
The firstborn of all creation,
Though still a creature
Whether man or angel in nature,
Not eternally begotten but made,
Nor before the ages born.

Who is He,
From whence does He come?
He demands our answer,
Even if we're mistaken.

The path of Pilate is closed
To us, for to ask "What is Truth?"
Is not to give an answer,
But rather to dodge, to evade--
Yet our fate ultimately hinges
On our answer, and a blank reply
Is always counted as wrong.

Who is He,
Was He sent to save us?
Or a false prophet sent to
Lead us astray?

Was He crazy, a madman, a raver,
With uncanny common sense
Who disturbed the Pharisees so?
Or did He lie and then die,
Cast into a burial tomb,
Brought back by loyal disciples
Who rendered him worship
As they drank their doom?

Who is He,
Who do we say He is?
The question confronts us,
And we must answer it.

Could He be the Lord God,
The Word made flesh to save us,
Are all His reported miracles real:
The water-walking and healings,
His defeat of Death's great hold,
And those many more signs untold?
His disciples died proclaiming these,
Is their reward great or nothing?

Who is He,
How will we answer then?
Is He Messiah and Lord,
Or liar, lunatic and fraud?

Marcion's answers reconciles
God to angels and not men.
Arius would reconcile man
With angels but not God.
Pilate's answer reconciles no one,
And it helps no-one,
Least of all himself--
For 'twas no answer at all.

Who is He,
What is our final reply?
Did He live, did He die,
And was He raised on High?

What of the Apostles He left,
Shall we risk their answer or no?
We may follow them to glory,
Or to doom--or walk the valley
Of death alone without hope.
Still, we must answer Him,
We cannot remain gazing at the sky:
Who do we say that He is?