(By Rachel Joyce)
They had left the upper room.
The taste of the passover meal still lingered
On their tongues, and their minds
Struggled to grasp that
That one of them was a traitor,
As they followed the Master
To His favorite retreat
The Garden.
The last supper and first communion
Faded into memory as they strode forward,
Together minus one.
What had He meant—the broken bread,
His body torn, the cup,
His blood poured out
For forgiveness of sins, available
To all?
As they walked, they sang
The familiar psalms. Notes of joyous praise
Rose into the starry evening sky,
As God, the Father listened,
And all heaven watched
In breathless anticipation of
The incredible sacrifice of love that
Was to come.
And the disciples’ sandaled feet
Barely felt the sharp stones on that
Dusty path, as Messiah prayed,
And taught them truth, pure gold,
Gleaming in the darkness
Of the night: glory conferred upon them,
And the love of the Father for the Son,
Now theirs.
The Father’s love was now in them, growing,
Transforming them into sons of light.
Grace upon grace, for them, for us.
Their unity, ours, is to light the way to the Father,
So all can see His glory and grace,
When they look at us, the redeemed ones.
Do our lives reflect the greatness of His love
In us?
Do we revel in its fullness?
Find our joy in being loved?
Rest in satisfaction and contentment
In our Savior, Lord, and friend?
Is His truth our sure foundation?
Is His Spirit the power that moves us,
Guides and leads us step by step
Towards home?
Fill us, Lord, with holy passion,
Ignited by the Father’s love.
Help us love and serve and worship
You alone, our glorious Lord.
Keep our eyes fixed on our Savior
And may our worship always rise
To the One who alone is worthy
Our Lord Jesus.
Opmerkingen