”THE OFFERING” – for Jesus
I saw him shuffled through that rigorous pathway.
His feed were bloodstained and dug the soil red.
I never saw a man sheathed by omni-light,
and blood blinded his sight from thorns crowned ‘round his head.
I witnessed their spit drip from his bruised breast.
I wanted him to buckle and hurled a stone at his chest!
Only an acknowledgment of my king on high,
that he should remit loyalty, and in loyalty he die.
I wanted for him to bow to the symbol on bronze shield
that this Jesus of Nazareth remit, in remittance be killed.
And he be redeemed by the rightful fist of Rome,
but I wondered if he knew that I cast the stone?
I never saw a man sheathed by peace dawning death,
and I recorded his eyes, for I knew it would die with his breath.
Then glanced up at my king on high in the tower,
for didn’t he presume Nazareth’s savior would cower?
Had he not presumed the peasant would plead,
that forgiveness would bellow from his lips that bleed?
And the ludicrous offerings Nazareth’s savior had preached
"That in atonement was light " say he, "could reach."
I witnessed them meander and taunt him uphill,
but an undaunted strength glimmered undying.
I saw them hammer stakes through his feet and wrists,
and looked over and saw his mother, Mary, crying.
I’d never witnessed a man withstand such pain,
all the while the ultimate offer of salvation to gain.
I recorded his eyes- as he bled his cross red,
as he offered a thief, thorns crowned ‘round his head!
I recorded his agony, when uprose from my chest-
the subconscious voice of God, vibrating my vest!
Say he "Thou hast martyred and slain my chosen son!
Why would thee smite and suffer thy chosen one?
Hast he not sacrifice and fasted and to many a feast?
Hast he not endured and been beaten like a wild beast?
They deny his miracle, my son who walked on water. . .
Deny him as he made well the disease in their daughter.
Still they deny their lord, as he bleeds for the sins of these lands. . .
They slander and pierce sharp stakes through his hands!
Remember his sacrifice, for it shall not die with his breath . . .
Yee shall remember him long after his death."
Then I felt a grave loss and shame hinder me ill.
and rainfall came and washed his bloodstained body uphill.
That day I understood how hate and ignorance can blind;
I, a roman soldier, understood this grave loss to mankind.
I saw many were shunned by rightfulness of this shield.
And cried that night our true king was killed.
I wept thereafter, I, a sinful knight of Rome,
But remembered the offering that led me home.
The offering did not vacate, but spun into a whole. . .
For he who condemns shall never receive a soul.
He shall never love and inevitably be denied
and these are for whom Jesus Christ cried.
----- by Dean McRae
Copyright ©2001 Dean McRae
All rights reserved
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