Now you are lifted up and alone, O Sacred Friend. You are every person who has ever been condemned, battered, betrayed, or abandoned. You bear all our suffering and every consequence for the suffering we caused.

“Father, forgive them; they don’t know what they’re doing.”

Forgive them, you say. Me included, I hear. Even now you see the spark of the kingdom in our ugliness, without justifying our violence.

You know full well what I have done, yet when I reach my hand across time and space to touch your face, you do not flinch. I caress your hair, your cheek, your beard as you slip into death. I lay my open palm over your heart, barely beating.

And all that is you flows into me, into us, into every living thing on earth.

What language shall I borrow
to thank thee, dearest friend,
for this thy dying sorrow,
thy pity without end?
— “O Sacred Head Now Wounded”

Credits and references:
Crucifixion 2 by Michael D. O’Brien. Used with permission.
Luke 23:34 (Msg)
Jesus down from Cross (cropped) by Michael D. O’Brien. Used with permission.
“O Sacred Head Now Wounded,” anonymous.
Banner: The Dark Night of the Soul (cropped) by Rene. Used with permission.

© Esther Hizsa, An Everyday Pilgrim, 2015.
Unauthorized use and/or duplication of this material without permission from Esther Hizsa is strictly prohibited. Excerpts and links may be used provided there is a link to the original content and credit is given as follows: © Esther Hizsa, An Everyday Pilgrim 2013, 2014, 2015.  http://www.estherhizsa.wordpress.com