Not My Contemporary

You walked the dusty roads of Galilee,  

Healed the blind, calmed the raging sea.  

Apostles laughed and wept beside Your feet,  

But every eye that saw You now has gone to sleep.  

The crowds that cheered on Palm Sunday’s praise  

Have faded into history’s silent haze.  

Two thousand years have turned the page of time—  

No living breath was there, no heart aligned.

Empires rose and empires fell away,  

But no one still alive can truly say,  

“I stood right there when Jesus passed my way.”

No living person can be Your contemporary,  

No heartbeat now was beating then, it’s plain to see.  

The hands that touched Your robe have turned to dust,  

The voices that cried “Hosanna” lie in quiet trust.  

You’re not a myth, You’re not a story made up new—  

You’re history’s King, and this is why it’s true:  

No living person can be Your contemporary…  

And still, Lord Jesus, You’re alive in me.

The oldest soul on earth is barely past one hundred years,  

But You were born when Caesar ruled and Herod spread his fears.  

No one alive today could span that ocean wide,  

From cross to empty tomb to now—no overlap, no lie.  

Even Methuselah’s record falls so short,  

Nine hundred sixty-nine won’t bridge the Lord’s report.  

The calendar itself declares the truth out loud:  

You lived and died and rose before our time allowed.

The stones still cry from ancient walls in Jerusalem,  

But every witness then has gone where we will follow them.

No living person can be Your contemporary,  

No heartbeat now was beating then, it’s plain to see.  

The hands that touched Your robe have turned to dust,  

The voices that cried “Hosanna” lie in quiet trust.  

You’re not a myth, You’re not a story made up new—  

You’re history’s King, and this is why it’s true:  

No living person can be Your contemporary…  

And still, Lord Jesus, You’re alive in me.

We never saw the water turn to wine,  

We never felt the touch that healed the blind.  

But every page of Scripture testifies  

Your life was real—recorded in the skies.  

Faith is not sight, yet faith is not pretend,  

We trust the truth that time cannot unbend.

No living person can be Your contemporary,  

Yet every living soul can call You “Lord” today.  

Though centuries divide us, grace has made a way—  

Your Spirit bridges every gap, every yesterday.  

You’re not a myth, You’re not a story made up new—  

You’re history’s King and our forever truth.  

No living person can be Your contemporary…  

But every living heart can worship You.

Jesus… You’re not contemporary…  

You’re eternal…  

And still You live in me.  

Amen.