It was only noon , but dark as night, one Friday
When the man whose blood ran as fecund streams
Gave up His last breath, darkness fell like judgment
It would hang from midday, one Friday, for hours
At three that afternoon, at a nearby Temple
The thick curtains, at least a meter deep, ripped
From top to bottom, revealing the inner sanctum
Was it an invitation? Come to Me without an intermediary?
Someone served till He bled love, freedom, salvation -
That Friday of horror is called Good Friday
Because someone paid for me, I go before Abba-Father ... free
Today at church in South Africa, we did half the communion during our worship. We heard Isaiah (53:5) reveal His body given and broken for Me/world, by His stripes we are healed. But the CUP at the Table of the LORD, is the New Covenant "in my blood," said Jesus. That took effect two days after Good Friday. We shall drink the symbolic, ordinary, wine to commemorate His Death and abstaining from the fruit of the vine until all SAVED siblings do it together in the Father's House. With our LAMB and Lion of Judah, Jesus. I am called to serve like Jesus, but I fail so miserably and humiliatingly. Where's gratitude in my soul? Holy Spirit help me thank Jesus, I beseech Thee, & all of Creation (Groaning for renewal according to Romans, chapter 8). amen shalom
Copyright © Anil Deo | Year Posted 2022
Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem.
to post a comment