Friday, April 6, 2012

Good Friday

by Kara L. Kraemer
A dreary night, a fateful night, cold winds were mourning.
Torches held, lanterns waved, weapons flashed their warning.
Soldiers guided to the man they had been seeking.
Trembling trees, ill at ease, roots and branches creaking,
Swaying hard, whimpering low, trying to trill free.
What cup is this? Something's wrong! This cannot be!

Rocks on the hillside, deep inside rumbled murmurs unheard,
Waiting to whirl around, crash the ground, for the Master's one word.
Dismal was the air, thick with dark despair, Dread was busy with its weaving.
Disciples in dismay, mental disarray, Jesus was leaving.
Bound in chains, dragged away, quiet as a lamb.
Long harbored in palest light, the nightmare began.

The Temple held Him captive by abusers with accusations stern
Who mocked Him, then struck Him for the Truth they wouldn't learn.
Grueling on, well past the dawn, 'til Passover's bell in heaven sings--
King of kings, Lamb of lambs, to be the sacrifice God brings.
All conscious life relates this time when authority He forgo,
As was His plan before the world began so very long ago.

Hardened men flogged Him, pushed thorns in around His head.
Men shouted, "Crucify!" not knowing why, they wanted Him dead.
Angels hovered up above watching frantically should He call.
The One adored as their Lord might refrain His death to befall.
The plight of mankind on His mind, Abba's spirit permeating,
Weak and wobbling, stumbled He with the cross to Golgotha awaiting.

Officials grabbed Son of Man, pounded feet and hands upon the wood with nails,
Raised the cross with Him embossed as the crowd continued with their gales.
"Say, King! Save Yourself," jeered the wild and cheer-mongering squad.
"Come down from that cross if You truly are the Son of God!"
Smug centurions cast lots for His garments, acting cocksure, not afraid.
Too aware of the man betrayed whom they couldn't break or persuade.

Bones in agony, soul in anguish, sneers heard through the haze,
"You who are going to destroy the temple and build it in three days!"
A repentant man with weary heart turned to Jesus, humbly grieved,
"Remember me in Your kingdom," for on that hour in Jesus he believed.
Without reason, in that season, the sun bestowed its duty at a loss.
Jesus became iniquity for us as though then a serpent on a cross.

The earth darkened, angels disappeared, Jesus endured all as foretold.
On the cross He stayed, to His God He prayed, as penalty was doled.
The sky remained silent. God turned away, the Son so alone and forsaken.
"It is finished." Into God's hands He gave up His spirit to be taken.
Rocks were loosed in wild free fall while the earth shook and rolled.
Centurions were terrified as they watched another dimension unfold.

The proof of Christ evermore of that day haunts the souls of men in denial--
Could this man truly be "I AM HE," the Son sent for man with God to reconcile. 

"Then he said, 'Jesus, remember me when You come into Your kingdom.' Jesus answered him, 'I tell you the truth, today you will be with me in Paradise.'"
Luke 23:42-43
 A Sermon Concerning Meditation on the Holy Sufferings of Christ 
by Martin Luther, click here.

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