Bob Gotti

Rookie (03/15/1957 / New Jersey)

They Knew Him Not - Poem by Bob Gotti

Jesus came and they knew Him not, this my friend did cast their lot.
For Jesus was The One to come, The One foretold as David’s Son.
But God’s chosen people Israel, could not see that Christ did fulfill,
Ancient prophecies told by God, and soon will rule with an iron rod.

He was Light they couldn’t see; the Davidic promise destined to be.
He did preach on Israel’s sod, pointing men to the Kingdom of God.
From the Scriptures, He even read, but to a people spiritually dead.
He stayed with His people though, as the one they needed to know.

But Israel, God’s chosen Nation, was obstinate to God’s Salvation.
Instead the leaders plotted to kill, God’s Son, to appease their will.
In their blindness they’d fulfill, God’s Eternal plan on Calvary’s Hill.
As Christ was mocked and scorned, like prophets had forewarned.

Christ was pierced for me and you, and for the Nation of Israel too.
They will see the One they pierced, although for them it isn’t clear.
They’ll be filled with supplication, as God moves His chosen nation,
Then one-third will turn to Him, when Jesus cleanses them from sin.

Until then, God has turned to us, the Gentiles who believe and trust,
Through faith, He’ll return again, bringing Salvation to believing men.
Christ left us a witness as the Light, to come to God before the night.
How much more can you afford, to ignore that witness of The Lord?

(Copyright ©04/2006)

Comments about They Knew Him Not by Bob Gotti

  • (4/21/2006 12:58:00 PM)

    Bob - This was a fine poem and well said. Faith that comes from the heart speaks well. (Report) Reply

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  • (4/21/2006 9:07:00 AM)

    Hey Bob, maybe it’s a good thing that the Romans killed Jesus. I don’t mean that it’s good that he suffered and died, but it sure is better than what would happen to him today under the U.S. penal system. I can just see him sitting in his cell on D Block worrying about whether Bubba is going to sell him for a pack of Marlboros. Maybe he could get on a work detail repairing county highways or something. He could ingratiate himself with the guards by spouting all sorts of spiritual gobbledygook, and maybe they’d let down their guard and he could make a getaway and be across the state line before they even have time to issue an all points bulletin. He’ll have to cut his hair and lie low, maybe hang out under railroad bridges with hobos whose messed up lives would make them particularly susceptible to his proselytizing. (Report) Reply

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Poem Submitted: Thursday, April 20, 2006

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