THE BLOW UPON HIS HOLY FACE

 

The Blow Upon His Holy Face

Before the court our Saviour stood,
The Lord of mercy, truth and good.
No angry answer did He give,
But showed us how God's saints should live.

An officer with cruel hand,
Struck Christ, Who at the trial did stand.
With quiet strength Jesus stood there,
Endured the shame with patient care

The Saviour spoke with quiet grace,
No trace of vengeance marked His Face:
"If I have spoken words untrue,
Then show the wrong that I did do.

"But if the truth My Lips have said,
Why strike My Face?" the Saviour pled.
Yet still He bore the shame and pain,
To cleanse our hearts from sin's dark stain.

How often little wounds we bear,
Of harsh rebuke or pain unfair.
Misjudged by those who cannot see,
Or burdened by adversity.

A thoughtless word, a cold disdain,
A hidden grief, a quiet pain;
These lesser crosses come our way,
To meet us in life's passing day.

Then let us bear them patiently,
With humble hearts and charity.
For every trial, great and small,
Can draw us nearer Christ, our All.

United to our suffering King,
Our tears become an offering;
For He who wore the crown of thorn,
Will raise our hearts to Heaven's morn.

O Lord, when trials fill our days,
Teach us to walk in all Your ways;
To bear each cross with faith and love,
Until we dwell with You above.

Image by CN Whittle