And, now, it is our turn
to remind you of your belovedness, Dear One.
This week, when you need to hear it most,
may we greet you on the road, palms waving.
May we wash your beautiful feet,
savour our last meal,
and feel the sting of being betrayed.
May we hold you in your anguished prayers
and be arrested with you.
May we declare our love
and meet your gaze.
May we wipe your brow,
and carry your cross.
As you have loved us,
may we love you, dear Jesus.
May we see your pain,
hear your cries,
and touch your hands,
your side,
your cheek,
and tell you again,
“You are my Beloved.
I will never leave you or forsake you.
You are mine.”
May we caress your feet
as you breathe your last
and weep
as we shroud
and rock
your lifeless body.
Were you there when they crucified my Lord?
Were you there when they crucified my Lord?
Oh, sometimes it causes me to tremble, tremble, tremble.
Were you there when they crucified my Lord?
–An African-American Spiritual
An Everyday Pilgrim 