A poem written for Holy Week 2014,
in observance of Maundy Thursday
Here Jesus breaks the loaf, the cup he pours —
The ordinary food we share each day.
But blessing it, O Lord, he makes it Yours
To feed Your pilgrim people on their way.
True flesh and blood of plain humanity,
An ordinary human body, is his tent.
But when that body hangs upon the tree
It is Your own life, Lord, that is spent —
Spent freely for our ransom, we who reel
Confused in condemnation, far from You.
And as we gather, bidden to Your meal
Of bread and wine, we taste of life anew.