This in the Name of Love
O my Lord,
what is man,
that you are mindful of him,
what is man,
that you would join him,
walk the earth along side of him,
taste the dust,
feel the heat,
experience the cold,
know the fatigue,
joy,
sorrow,
loss,
frustration,
and this in the name of love?
O my Lord,
what is man,
that you are mindful of him
that you would learn
to earn your bread
by work of your hands,
how it feels to grieve
at the loss of a parent,
to see the sorrow and fear
in the eyes of those who love you,
and to do this in the name of love?
O my Lord,
what is man,
that you would see his evil first hand,
feel the bite of it across your back,
know the pain of the torturer's art,
feel the blood flowing out of your body,
the bite of iron
tieing you to wood,
the breath that comes in ragged gulps,
harder and harder,
the indignity of a public death,
the death of a slave
or traitor,
and all this in the name of love?
O my Lord,
what is man,
that you would take upon your shoulders
all the sins
of an old and wicked race,
all the hate and greed and lust,
all the crime and anger and pride,
become so corrupt
for things you have not done,
that the weight of it
is incomprehensible,
and atone for it in your own blood,
and know so many
would walk away from you,
unmoved by what you would do
in the name of love?
In the folly of God's love
for a wayward mankind,
I am redeemed,
and bow down in grateful adoration.
Alleluia!
Lord,
let me find refuge
always
at the foot of your cross,
where you bled and died
so that I might live.
Only here,
beneath the cross
where you shed your blood
can I find refuge
from the darkness.
Only here,
beneath the cross,
can I find refuge
from the wages of sin.
Here at the foot of your cross,
I pour out my tears
like the Magdalene,
tears of grief at what my sin has wrought,
tears of sorrow for what you chose to do,
tears of grief at the need.
Here at the foot of your cross,
I stand with your sorrowful mother,
she who I once wanted to comfort
for her pain,
her sorrow,
her loss,
but who sustains me as I collapse in grief.
Here at the foot of your cross,
I confront the reality of my self,
sinful,
weak,
undeserving,
and find not the condemnation or rejection I deserve,
but only love.