Good Friday

Crucifix by Filippo Brunelleschi, Basilica of Santa Maria Novella, Florence, Italy. Circa 1410-1415.

Turn my eyes to You, Jesus.
Compel me to look at Your face.
Torn and bruised,
Whipped and abused,
A broken vessel
Of grace
Poured out for me.
How can this be?
It is my darkness
You bear.
My sin holds You there,
Nailed to a cross
Meant for my hands,
My feet.
You submit
To death so bitter
To give me life
So sweet.

I stagger
Before such love.
I’m breathless
Amid such mercy.

Jesus,
My Lord
And my God!

I kneel before You,
I worship and adore You
As I behold
This mystery:
I’m swept ashore
To victory
On the tide
Of Your blood.

But he was wounded for our transgressions,
he was bruised for our iniquities;
upon him was the chastisement that made us whole,
and with his stripes we are healed.
Isaiah 53:5 (RSV)

For I received from the Lord that which I also delivered to you: that the Lord Jesus on the same night in which He was betrayed took bread; and when He had given thanks, He broke it and said, “Take, eat; this is My body which is broken for you; do this in remembrance of Me.” In the same manner He also took the cup after supper, saying, “This cup is the new covenant in My blood. This do, as often as you drink it, in remembrance of Me.”
1 Corinthians 11:23-25 (NKJV)