You Were Scourged!

You Were Scourged! Jesus, You were scourged! Not “merely” whipped, But severely beaten. Not with a single strand, But nine, each imbedded, Designed to inflict the most pain, To tear off the flesh --Your flesh-- Strip by strip by bit by bit. It was there Your royal blood flowed. There, in the courtyard, At that whipping post, With others nearby, eating, And smiling Or ignoring Your agony. And all for me! O Lord, forgive me! And You reply, “Father, Forgive.” And through Your pain --You smile at me.

What Was It Like?

What Was It Like? What was it like To be one of the crowd Following Jesus -- A “Groupie”; Hearing the words, “Repent! Be forgiven!” And “Blessed be those Who believe.” What was it like On the outskirts of town When Jesus rode past On that colt? Shouting, “Hosanna!” And “Blessed art Thou!” Throwing our garments Before Him. Then, days later, Being one of the crowd, Shouting with others, “Crucify!” Scourged and beaten, Jesus carried that cross; Hung, bled, and died there. Forgiving.