by Sue Stone
O my Jesus,
tortured,
beaten,
bloody,
mocked,
and stripped of all,
who laid down your freedom
willingly,
knowing what we are,
what we have done
and are likely to do again.
Our hands are not clean, Lord,
never could we be worthy
to be given what you offer us,
your own dear self,
your own body and blood,
medicine beyond all others.
Yet you call us home
to wash us,
heal us,
renew us.
Teach us how to love!