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« The line between the product and the persona | Main | The myth of women learning differently »
Sunday
Mar032019

He Bore our Griefs

No, it was not the Jews wo crucified,
Nor who betrayed you in the judgment place,
Nor who, Lord Jesus, spat into your face,
Nor who with buffets struck you as you died.
No, it was not the soldiers fisted bold
Who lifted up the hammer and the nail,
Or raised the curséd cross on Calvary's hill,
Or, gambling, tossed the dice to win our robe.
I am the one, O Lord, who brought you there,
I am the heavy cross you had to bear,
I am the rope that bound you to the tree,
The whip, the nail the hammer, and the spear,
The blood-stained crown of throns you had to wear:
It was my sin, alas, it was for me.

Jacob Revius (1586-1658)

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