Broken, unleavened bread,
Crushed grapes.
The bread and wine that He was,
Flesh and blood, a sacrifice of agony,
For us.
The prayer,
Asking His Father
To take away the cup.
Then His will set aside,
For us.
The arrest,
A voluntary prisoner whose “I am He”
Knocked them down.
Then He went with them,
For us.
It was cold.
They taunted and beat Him.
They drove nails into Him,
And He let them,
For us.
Today, we follow,
For Him,
A meager offering compared to His,
For us.
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