Good Friday—He Is Crucified



April 2, 2021

Psalm 22

To the tune of “My Soul Gives Glory to My God” C.M. Sing it at

1 My God, my God, O why have You
forsaken me, and why
are You so far from saving me,
while groaning words I cry?

2 All day, my God, to Thee I cry,
yet am not heard by Thee;
And in the darkness of the night,
I cannot silent be.

3 But You are holy, and You are
enthroned in Isr’el’s praise.
4 Our fathers put their trust in You—
deliv’rance You did raise.

5 When unto You they sent their cry,
to them deliv’rance came;
Because they put their trust in You,
they were not put to shame.

6 But as for me, I am a worm;
a man not recognized.
I am reproached by men, and by
the people am despised.

7 All that see me laugh me to scorn;
hurl insults all the day;
They nod and shake their heads at me;
and mocking me, they say:

8 “His trust is in the Lord, that He
would free him by his might;
Let Him deliver him, if He
in him does take delight.”

9 But You brought me out of the womb,
and made me trust in Thee;
And even at my mother’s breast
You did take care of me.

. . .

16 For dogs have compassed me about;
the wicked, that did meet
in their assembly, circled me;
they pierced my hands and feet.

17 I can count all my bones; and those
who gloat upon me stare.
18 And for my garments they cast lots,
my clothes among them share.

19 But be not far, O Lord, my strength;
come quickly and help me.
20 From sword my soul, from pow’r of dogs,
my precious life set free.

21 Out of the roaring lion’s mouth,
come rescue me and save;
From horns of oxen and wild beasts,
You heard and answer gave.

. . .

26 The poor shall eat, and shall be filled;
they also praise shall give
unto the Lord, all those who seek—
may your hearts ever live!

27 And all the ends of earth shall turn,
remembering the Lord.
All fam’lies of the nations shall
bow down and praise accord.

28 For all dominion to the Lord
belongs to Him alone.
And He rules over nations all,
from His almighty throne.

29 The rich of earth will worship; all
who to the dust descend;
They all shall kneel—none of them can
his soul from death defend.

30 Descendants, then, will all serve Him—
the children yet to be.
They will be told about the Lord,
future posterity.

31 For they shall come, and shall declare
His truth and righteousness
unto a people yet unborn,
for He has done all this.

Good Friday

Far from a day for new insight, of which I have none, I can only approach Good Friday in the broken English of poetry. Here’s my attempt. It will remain untitled.

Nine in the morning, pardon in breath,
exhaling mercy, inhaling death.
High noon rises, justice so bright,
veiled in a shrouded eclipse of the Light.
Three o’clock now, light reappears
as breath slips away from eternity’s years.
Finished He cries, creation now healed,
sowing seeds of redemption, like treasure in the field.
Into your Spirit commend outstretched hands,
revealing an unsearchable enigmatic plan.
See sun falling, despondent defeat,
sundown, friends wrenching nails from his feet.
Darkness descending, Glory entombed,
child of the Virgin, enthroned and rewombed.

We must remember, however faint and difficult it must have been, Jesus sang Song 22 from the cross. Let’s kneel and join him now.

Ask Yourself. Share with Another.

Will you walk—no, crawl—slowly through Song 22? Do it in honor and remembrance of Jesus. You don’t have to feel it. You don’t have to like it. You don’t have to understand it. Just do it. It is a simple act of faithful fellowship with the Suffering One, who sang it in solidarity with all sinners for all time.

For the Awakening,
J.D. Walt


Farmer. Poet. Theologian. Jurist. Publisher. Seedbed's Sower-in-Chief.