He was despised, the object of scorn,
Upon His brow a crown of thorns.
Upon His back some lashes scarred;
Though sinless and pure His judgement was hard. Up Calvary's Hill He made His way;
For sins of ours He'd pay that day.
The cross was heavy, perhaps He fell;
Simon did they then compel
To drag it to Golgotha's height
As scoffers gathered to mock His plight.
Upon that hideous rocky hill
The Prince of Peace that day they'd kill;
As in a scene of suffering gory
Played out the earth's most shameful story.
I know not who reviled Him worst;
Evil men or Hades' cursed.
The Lord they mocked. . .ah, senseless loss,
And stretched Him on the wooden cross.
Yet though loss, it was a gain;
For by it cleansed each sinner's stain.
Embodiment of heaven's love;
With cruel blows the nails they shoved
Into His palms, His feet, and then
The cross was raised by angry men
While at its base amidst sinners' jeers;
Soldiers for His clothes cast lots
And all ignored His mother's tears.
The angels, too, my guess is this;
They sorrowed much and ached inside
That while the serpent coiled and hissed
Their powers were locked, their hands were tied.
Mighty Gabriel, Michael too
Were they not sickened by the view
Who'd often had at their command
Vast legions of the angel band?
And yet they awaited word from God
Ere setting foot upon the sod
While silence reigned and heaven wept
And galaxies untended leapt
To wander aimless off their course
Still spinning outwards from their Source.
( I don't really know, but this may have been.)
Or then again, perhaps a single sentinel looked down,
A stalwart one with anxious frown
Reporting on the order of things
So others could be spared the sight
With faces hidden beneath their wings.
He suffered there in agony,
Alone but for a faithful few;
His mother, yes, and Magdalene
And John was there and maybe—who?
You say you'd not have left Him there
That you with others well compare?
Didn't ever yet each one suppose
Who knew for sure that He arose
That yes they'd be the one who'd stay
Beneath the cross and faithful pray!
( May it be so! )
The Lord forgave that guilty crew
And ever loving, ever true
Did even then not fail to yield
Himself for others and appealed,
"Father, forgive them, for they know not what they do."
And this for them who'd offered Him
A vinegared sponge upon a reed
To slake His thirst—malicious deed!
And above His head they'd hung a sign,
"This Is The King Of The Jews". . .Oh, mockery fine.
( But if they only knew—heaven help them, it was true! )
Then nature's order was arrested
As earth and sky in horror protested.
A somber hush fell over the vale,
The sun itself grew very pale.
Hurrying in disconsolate gloom
To hide itself behind the moon,
Unwilling more to light the scene
Of evil men's disastrous scheme
Thus shrouding earth with darkened tent
As quaked the ground and veil was rent.
The shock in His tormenters' eyes
As long dead saints began to rise!
The city's streets it's said they walked
Though unrecorded if they talked.
Amid this tumult at heaven's altar
The Lord's last breath did finally falter;
Into His Father's hands did He
Commend His soul with final plea.
Then at last He bowed His head;
The holy Prince of Peace was dead
And in that pivot point of time
Met ancient curse with grace sublime.
In vast surprise and growing dread
The centurion watching over Him said,
"Truly this man was the Son of God."
In Adam was the race defiled,
Through Jesus was it reconciled.
And so man's debt for sin was paid
And in the tomb Him gently laid.
Were that the end of this great story,
There would be no final glory
For Satan must have danced with glee,
Crowing that he'd ever be free
To torment man and jeer at God
Whose Son he'd placed beneath the sod.
But on the third day He arose
In victory over heaven's foes!
The meaning of that empty tomb—
That man through Christ escaped his doom.
Death itself indeed was dead
And nevermore man's lot to dread.
Come now, redeemed ones of the King,
Arise! Rejoice!—His praises sing!
Helen Hamrick
