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The Prince, the Beloved,
Upon whom God’s favor rests,
Scourged to the point of death,
Can we truly call Him blessed?

Bloodied, beaten, battered,
Spat upon, punched and bullied,
Bearing it passively,
His pride was never sullied?

Collapsed in a corner,
There wearing His new made crown,
The thorns they tore His flesh,
While a Roman played the clown.

A mystery so harsh
Causing me consternation,
The King of all that is
Accepts humiliation?

Faith alone revealed it,
Scion of the Trinity
Emptied Himself; Body,
Blood, Soul and Divinity.

—Mark J. Goodman