Because
they are worth it

THE WAITING, SORROW AND THE JOY

Every year Christians celebrate Easter.  We celebrate it at different levels and ways depending on what Easter means to us.  I love Easter!

My dad was a pastor and a poet.  Every Good Friday (the day Jesus died), our church would open its doors on Friday evening to allow people to come and spend time in prayer.  He would always have a bulletin ready with a beautiful Easter picture and then a poem he had written as well as some scriptures.

People would come and go throughout the evening.  There would be soft music playing. If you wanted to, you could go to the front and have communion – just you and the Lord.  There was a large crucifix at the front of the church.

So imagine instead of a program where everyone did the same thing, we met Jesus in our own way.  I loved these moments from the time I was little – it always was very special.

I thought you might enjoy reading one of the pieces my father wrote for the Good Friday service.

YOU THERE ON THE CROSS

You there, on the cross!

What were the words you whispered?

Why did you not curse us,

As we drove home the nails?

Why did you not scream with pain,

When we thrust the foot of the beam

Into the socket of stone?

What manner of man are you

To utter “Forgive them, Father…”

When you should have hissed

Syllables of hate,

As have others who died thus?

And, just before I drove home the spear

Into your side,

You sagged limp against the nails

With a long, fluttering sigh of death.

Did I hear you whisper,

“It is finished”?

What is finished?

Was it a task begun long ago?

Was it a race, finished before the goal was reached?

Was it a journey begun but never ended?

Was it a statement finished before completion?

Perhaps it was your life

Wasted upon men, not worth saving.

Why do your glazed eyes

Still look so questing and searching,

As though, even in death,

You could be forgiving

Even me – your slayer?

Surely you must know

I bore you no ill will

‘Tis but my work I do

Simply and violently,

But not with spite,

Not with cruelty –

Not to you.

 

You there on the cross,

Can you hear me?

Listen, I would give up my spear

If you would but bid me –

I would follow you

Even though I should end up

In like manner.

It is not pity I feel for you now

But only pity for all

Who have condemned you.

Always I shall yearn

To have in my death

The feeling of your acceptance of me,

And the appearance of your dignity

For truly

You are the son of God!

K.E. Curtis – my dad

 

Be blessed this Easter- He came, He Saved, and He died for us all.

 

Anne

 

Anne Pierson is the Director of Ministry Services for Loving and Caring, Inc., a national ministry whose mission is to provide resources, training, and encouragement to life-affirming people and organizations.

3 Responses

  1. Debi Velker says:

    This is beautiful, Anne. Thank you for sharing with all of us!

    Love, Debi

  2. Jill Taylor says:

    Love this poem…the depth of its sorrow and guilt in the face of forgiveness. Anne, you had us join you in a song at the end of your keynote at Heartbeat it’s going through my mind as I awake this morning. Can you remind me of its title or perhaps a YouTube Andrews’s where I might find it in full? Woke up this morning trying to sing the last line. I’m a 4:30 AM singer, too. Praying for you this day, precious Anne. With love in Him…Jill

    • Anne Pierson says:

      Hi Jill,
      I created a video of the song just for you! Please see above in the blog for the song you requested. Thank you for your love and prayers, I am praying for you as well. Much love—Anne.

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