Tuesday, February 26, 2008

No scar?

Hast thou no scar?
No hidden scar on foot or side or hand?
I hear thee sung as mighty in the land
I hear them hail thy bright ascendant star
Hast thou no scar?

Hast thou no wound?
Yet I was wounded by the archers, spent,
Leaned Me against a tree to die; and rent
By ravening beasts that compassed Me, I swooned
Hast thou no wound?

No wound? No scar?
Yet, as the Master shall the servant be
And pierced are the feet that follow Me
But thine are whole; can he have followed far
Who has nor wound nor scar?

Amy Carmichael, Toward Jerusalem, page 85.