Twas The Night Of Nicea
Twas the Night Of Nicea, and all through the land,
The bishops were gathering, with hopes for a plan.
Three cent’ries before, Jesus had been,
But many still differed on just what that means.
Go and decide, the Emperor had said,
And so they all went, pressing firmly ahead.
Easter’s date to consider, a creed to declare,
Much to decide, with faith and with prayer.
But storm clouds were brewing. A heresy had spread:
Jesus was prophet–a branch, not the head.
Arius led them. And for this he had fought,
But it was not the good news that the apostles had taught.
Some bishops were restless, can’t we all get along?
As it is ever with meetings, disputing was wrong.
Let’s work it all out, let’s find a fair way,
Let’s come to consensus, whatever we say.
Speeches were given, but nothing was clear,
Then Arius rose, for all to hear,
Jesus was prophet, not God, not divine,
A great man to know, admiration was fine.
But God was one thing, not two and not three,
And that was the way it always should be.
So Arius continued defending his view,
In a room full of people not sure what to do.
Then in the back there arose such a clatter,
Everyone turned to see what was the matter.
A skinny old Greek almost flew ‘cross the room,
His strides, they were certain. His face, did it fume.
He reached Arius quick, and reached him fist-first,
And Arius went down as one of the worst.
Above him stood Nicholas, from whom many had fled,
And Arius knew then he had something to dread.
For truth conquerors all, and while consensus is fine,
Some things, they will never change with the times.
Yes Christ was a good man, yes he was nice,
But He was and is God, for He is the Christ.
So as you lay down, all snug in your bed,
Know that Jesus is God, above all else said.
And if you say less, and you change with the new,
Know that St. Nicholas may come for you too.
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