5. Christ is Stripped
of His Garments
He, naked, waits for hate’s uplifting stroke,
An emptied bucket dancing in the air,
Foul spittle’s target, butt of scoffing jokes:
With God nailed safely what will men not dare?
The first blood ever drawn by him was shed
To make a cloak for our first parents’ shame.
Now his own blood he offers in our stead
And hangs exposed, uncovered, blasted, blamed.
What hope for naked sinners when the King
Of Heaven lifted high for all to see
Lacks any veil to veil his suffering?
What hiding place for us now can there be?
Our Covering uncovered covers us:
He clothes our naked guilt with his last breath.
He clothes our naked guilt with his last breath.
No comments:
Post a Comment