(Originally posted 4/18/2014)
Did his knees hurt when he prayed, and thoughts of rescue hit the ground?
When the blood and sweat dripped from his brow, did he cry or make a sound?
Did angels try to catch the drops of anguish as they fell?
Was Heaven silent in the wake of cheers that rose from Hell?
Why didn’t the earth quake as Jesus said “thy will be done?”
Why didn’t the trees bend to keep the mob from Heaven’s Son?
Jesus went deliberately. He chose to give his life.
It was love that drove him to the soldiers bonds,
Not hate, or fist or knife.
On this night, so long ago, it began; Good Friday,
To give his body and his blood, to make for us a way.
He was kissed by lips that were smeared with greedy hate,
Embraced by priests, enraged,
And though the hour was getting late,
God’s wrath he would assuage.
Could he call the legions, Heavens armies, to his side?
Yes. But if he’d been rescued, he’d be leaving us all to die.
Jesus Christ, my Savior, gave his life in cool of night.
He went for love and the will of God, he went without a fight.
Malchus felt God’s grace first hand, though he went with angry blinders,
Any sound of breeze or speech or joy was a constant grace reminder.
This was no normal prisoner who walked with peaceful silence,
He conquered hate with love, and peace was his weapon against violence.
Jesus, what sacrifice you gave. That night was surely long.
May we remember what you’ve done as you began your love’s true song;