Calvary Remembered

Oh it was hard to see His Majesty so vulnerable
To hear the mob yell "Crucify" was more than we could bear
And yet He had to bear much more than we.
His was the pain, the pitting of sword points upon raw flesh
His feet trod cobbles unprotected, bruised and bloodied
In the humid heat of that dark day.
His was the loneliness.
His was the thud of nails, the anguished cry
Ours was the watching and the guiltiness,
Ours was the fear.
Ours was the outrage and the questionings
That lashed the mind.

Who was He now? Who had He thought He was?
Who were we now?
The losers once again?
Deceived and the deceivers?
Back to square one?
Oh it was hard to see this Man so vulnerable,
And yet He had to bear much more than we.
Stench of horse flesh, close hustling of harness,
Quick snapping and snarling, the pack at His heels.
Wailing of women, cursing of men,
Palm branches thrusting, in mockery now.
The crushing of bone, bone against wood.
Straining of muscle, ripping of flesh.
His was the brokenness.
Ours was the wonder that ever such horror
Should come upon Him.

Forgiveness personified.
Love ever lasting,
Submissive in suffering,
Weak in His power.
Humanity broken and deity glorified,
With thorns, blood and nails,
And a rough wooden cross.

His was no worthless sacrifice and He no common man.
If we were losers we had lost before,
But not this Man.
He always kept His word and met our needs.
He knew our thoughts before we had uttered them.
No loser He.
But hanging there upon the cross,
He looked as if the sum of all our losses
Held Him there.

Oh it was hard to see His Majesty so vulnerable,
And yet we understood that Sabbath day,
Seeing the empty tomb and later on
Our resurrected Lord,
We knew it had to be and we were glad for our sakes,
That it was this way.


Copyright Heather Blackwell, all rights reserved.
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