Poem 2: The finished work

It began at Gethsemane
The struggle, the tears
After three years of toil
That last moment mattered
To go to the finish or not
Consultation in prayer
Sweaty earnest prayer
The ground drank in
The blood-like sweat
That drenched the body
Of the Man who is Lord
The decision was made
The Lord’s decision
His will into the Father’s
Hands was laid
The prayer’s closing line
“Thy will be done”

The kiss of betrayal
The strike of the sword
The touch of renewal
The arrest of the Lord
Before the Sanhedrin
The scribes gave their approval
To take the Lord
To the land of the Dead
Through all this
The Lord’s will was being done

He was silent
Before Pilate
Pilate who was to
Determine His fate
The Christ He
Wanted to set free
Not to give vent
To the Scribes’ hate
Between Barabbas and Him
Barabbas was freed
In answer to the crowd’s wish
The incitement by the scribes
At a greater rate
So it happened
That the Christ’s fate
Was sealed
To be sent to
The land of the Dead
The Lord’s will
About to be done

He was stripped
Flogged, wounded
Punished, oppressed
Pulled, whipped
Taken, up
Carrying, the cross
The cross, mine, yours
Nailed, in pain
Hated, not hating
Forgiving, redeeming
On that tree, that cross
Carrying, burdens mine
Yours
Cried out
It is finished
Finished
The redemption work
Finished, the cleansing
Work,
For you, for me
Mine, yours
Our sins
He finished it
For you, for me