The Cross

The Cross

“Yes, beaten and scourged;

Lashed thirty-nine times;

Spat on and ridiculed “king.”

Lathered in grime –

Caked in His blood –

My Only Son hangs dying.

Groan, Oh My Spirit!

Weep such great tears!

All Heaven, hush – mourn –

Quiet daily cheers.

My Son! Oh, My Son!

Forced up Golgotha’s mount,

Bleeding, battered; weary –

Blamed on Man’s account.

Oh, what suffering He carries,

What crushing weight is the world!

And circled all about Him

Curses of contempt are hurled.

But, Spirit, listen, listen!

My Son’s soul sounds a call:

“Your Will be done, My Father;

Yours alone, or none at all!”

“O Faithful Son, I cherish Thee!

I know My Plan’s a heavy cross.

You knew it, too, O Bravest One,

But You chose to scorn the loss.

Your life meant nothing to You

When measured by Love for Man.

So now You’re one step closer

To fulfilling the Word of My Plan.

Oh, My Son! Spirit groan!

It is time for a bitter death.

Wail, Heaven – the nails are struck

And Pain’s with every breath.

Oh, My Son! Your life-blood flows,

Your flesh is torn and scarred.

And yet You suffer with willing heart

Before all who mock You hard.

“Father, forgive them,” I, You beg,

“For they know not what they do.”

All right, My Son, I hear Your voice,

And I know what You say is true:

It must be done; it will be done!

Fulfillment lies in You.

“Yes, My Son, Adam’s sin lays

Upon Your striped shoulders.

You are the Heavenly example,

Even before the Roman soldiers.

Listen, one of them whispers,

“Behold, He truly Is the King!”

The lightning flashes; thunder rolls

As the earth shakes with My sorrow.

Oh, My Son, You are taking

The sins of yester and tomorrow.

Before My eyes, My innocent Son,

Your being is ugly and dark,

Bearing sins of all generations

Before and after the Ark.

Oh, My Son! I must turn away!

Yes, turn – My eyes are sored!

I cannot look upon any sin

 O Christ, the redeeming Lord!

My righteous Spirit looks away –

You must die alone, My Son.

Alone. Yes, wail, Oh Heaven!

Nothing else may be done.

I cannot bid My angels go

Or command Him to come down.

Behold Him suffering loneliness

Upon nakedness and thorny crown.

He must be lifted up o’er all;

The Plan must be seen through!

It’s the Only Door to Heaven for Man;

The Only Way to Me, Son, is You!

Heaven, rumble; Earth, tremble.

My Son’s life ended is to be.

Hear His voice sound again:

“Father, why have You forsaken Me?”

“Forsaken, yes, He is alone.

I cannot stand the sight of sin.

Alone He suffers, cries and dies,

Although innocent He’s been.

He does not know the sins He bears;

Never one has He committed.

The anguish is in place of Adam;

Not one moment has He regretted.

NO! Heaven, No – His voice!

“Into Your hands I place My soul.”

I cannot send aide; As He says:

“It is finished” – His earthly role.

Yes, Yes, My dearest Son,

The time has come at last.

It is finished – rest in peace –

Your task is in the past.

“Your body is reverently taken down –

Servant Joseph is burying You.

A new tomb in his garden is chosen

To receive Your earthly body, due.

Now, My Son, await My voice!

I shall bid You rise in time!

First, wait till the Sabbath ends

In victorious death sublime.

Yes, victorious You lie, My Son –

Adam’s Race has been redeemed!

They have but to plead the Blood

And in My field be gleaned.