Christ the Redeemer

                Scourge Him and kill Him,
                The sacred Passion.

                                The shadows keep—
                We find Him
                                Prostrate in the Garden. To this day
The Man of Sorrows,
                                Reminding the pilgrims
                                With unspeakable anguish,
                His sacred body drew from Him,
Did shine as the sun.

Spirits fled in terror—
                                The approach of the traitor disciple—
                                Kiss of betrayal,
                His agonizing lips—
“Father, this chalice pass from Me,
                                Our sins, my friends.”

He was soon to endure our redemption.
Christ, we friends, sad story of Christ’s Passion.
                Death, we must leave for another—
                                But for us, the cross of Christ
Is a shadow reality.

Christ may be the distant,
                                Visible and tangible—
                                In the cross, great world everywhere,
                World maddened with pleasure
Remain an enigma, were it not
That he will draw all things.

Through Him, the Cross,
                and degrading torture, “King of Glory”
The banner and flag of the conquering,
                                His ever spreading kingdom—
                                                The very spirit, this symbol. There
                                                                                                Lurks the danger.

Reality, meant to Him, He
                Bore it to Calvary,
Three hours, we now see the Cross
                With roses carved in gold, silver,
And ivory.

Diadems of kings,
                                                That many forget
                                                Stand in our lives.
Conclusion, we forget the lessons,
                It is well, the warning words of Christ,
                                That the cross,
                                                         resurrection of many,
Will either raise, or fall upon
Us, and crush us all
                Like the fiery pillar, the Red,
                It giveth light by night
Children of God,
                                A cloud of darkness among the actors
                                Of the Cross
We’re saved, hardened hearts, the Cross.

-Patrick Conners Jr