Crown of Thorns

Accusations — forged untruths — from the serpent’s forked tongue.
Ambushed with a treacherous kiss!
In the garden of the oil press – the ruse had begun.
Bruised inwardly for our iniquities,
Crushed for our sins.
On the Mount of Olives — his Intercession begins.
Bloody sweat drips from his anguished brow.
The Father’s will — the Son’s sacred vow.
Not in violent revolt – but in humble surrender
A trial by fire — to weed out the pretenders.

The shepherd is struck – the sheep have scattered.
An atonement for sin — his blood is spattered.
Abused in the courtyard — his flesh stricken and torn.
Robed in mockery — crowned with thorns.
Rancid spittle defiled his unshaven face.
Stripped of dignity — he bore our guilt and disgrace.
Scorned a rebel — cursed a liar and fraud.
But we did not recognize — he was the image of God.
As his blood- drenched hair mingled with her spikenard tears—
A fragrance released — her act of contrition revered.

Strung up on a cross between murderers and thieves.
His chest — with every labored breath — heaves
On a wine-sopped sponge mixed with sour gall—
Was offered the poison of asps — bitter to the soul!
Jesus refused to drink the soured wine—
To fulfill his vow — at the appointed time.
Pierced — like hastened unleavened bread—
The Lamb of God — whose blood was shed—
Like poured out water and libation wine—
From his life-giving Spirit – God’s Sacred Vine.