That quote has stayed with me down through the years, and was the inspiration for the following poem:
Friend of Sinners
(Matthew 11:19)
Not everybody called Him Lord, and some still don’t today.
Not everyone saw any more than a baby on the hay.
Born among the losers and a stranger to the winners,
They looked at their Messiah and they called Him “friend of sinners.”
What kind of king could He have been? He wore no royal crown.
Breaking bread with publicans, He sought the common ground.
What kind of God would warm His hands over common people’s cinders?
Religion labeled Him a fraud and called Him “friend of sinners.”
He came two thousand years ago to seek that which was lost
And since then untold multitudes have knelt at Calvary’s cross.
Some have served Him all their lives while some are just beginners,
And I for one thank God He came to be the “friend of sinners.”
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