Holy Week 2003

Good Friday 1

Those hands that served are reconciled to nails,
Those feet she tended caked with drying blood;
The kingship of the treacherous prevails,
The branch of praise is turned to murderous wood:
The wine He blessed and offered turned to gall,
The bread He broke hangs broken on The Cross;
He said that He had come to save us all
But how could such salvation spring from loss? 

Teach us to see the truth behind the signs,
To keep true faith with what Our Saviour said;
To know that He, alone amongst the vines,
Will bring us wine sprung from the blood He shed:
And may we break and bleed to face The Cross
And find true solace in His tortured face;
To see that earthly pain is not a loss
But is our Passion, borne for Him with Grace.