…WHEN GOD DIED


 “…Nature trembled at this great alteration…”
 
He is the word made flesh
The Son of God of virgin birth
Like a lamb to a slaughter he was led
Not a protest, not a word said
A guiltless man persecuted and trialed
For your wrong and crime that was mine
On him our punishment was laid


Paying a debt we were too desolate to pay
Dragged to Pilate on that fateful day
He was handed over by the ones he came to save
Crucify him! Crucify him! The people roared
Rejected by his own, they had him flogged
Entering the hearts of men who gave him room
Lucifer unwittingly plotted his doom
They stripped and adorned him a scarlet garment
Setting on his head a crown of thorns they taunted
They spat on the king, struck him and hurled insults
While some gathered his clothes and cast lots
They scribbled an ode on his cross for fun
The written charge a veritable one
“This is Jesus, King of the Jews”
They said to scorn but it rang true
Because of my sins he was ill-fated
For cursed is he hung upon a tree
The soldier pierced him with no sensitivities
His pain stretching tautly to the extremities
And when on the Son laid our sins
The Father had to turn away from him
Seeing all had been accomplished
He breathed his last words, “It is finished”
The sun retreated then into its tent
Refusing to show the abomination of men
Nature trembled at this great alteration
A sinless blood, the atrocities of nations
The earth shook and trembled in fear
Throwing up bodies of men long dead
The curtain of the temple ripped apart
A sign of what should have been from the start
Now all who believe can walk in
Through the advocate, our High Priest
Ushering in an epoch of grace
One which welcomed all people, all race
To those captured by death he was the ransom
He paid the price in ways one cannot fathom
With foolishness, He confounded the wise
It was the unthinkable when God died.

Courtesy: lightstock

Side Note
You remember “Passion of the Christ?” Yeah. This is my own tired version. But, I’m telling you, this story is by no means finished. He died and guess what? He rose again. The only “Valentine” who lives to tell the story.

HE IS RISEN

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