It Is My Joy (Hebrews 12:2)

I betray him with a kiss and some blood-soaked coin
but this is the Good day that He would appoint
I place him in cuffs and lead him away
exiled from this dark garden, come what may
not expelled like Adam, but expelled by Adam’s son
bound like a sacrificial lamb, he’ll drink this cup till done
I had him stand trial for no crime at all
You see it was my sin, and my burden, and fall
that lead him to this sham of a trial
arriving at Pilate pushed down alibi’s aisle
He opened not his mouth, holding onto his tongue
as I charged him violently from the dust of my lung
I deny him as I warm by the charcoal fire
He calls me His friend, yet never a liar
The King stood trial with His throne in question
but I only heard a still small suggestion
if His world was bound like my meaningless rule
would He not have His angels save Him from death’s dark stool?
So I grab whip in hand and drive him like beast of burden
but He says to take his yoke, this is peace; it is sure and is certain

heaven’s authority
becomes heaven’s choice
I am surrounded by shame
but he shall rejoice

When asked if this captured king should die
I claimed only Caesar in Rome’s palace high
I twisted the crown adorned with Adam’s curse
hearing the silver rattling my purse
Life pours down his brow as he bleeds
this is the grain of my pleasure choked seeds
I wrapped his bludgeoned body with mocking purple garb
for my king is not Immanuel but only Caesar and mob
When given the choice, Barabbas is my call
though he ravages and murders, I’m bound to my fall
I’m surrounded by brethren shouting “Crucify!
but my heart longs to reside in the Prodigal’s sty

and the Word made flesh says, this is why

I washed my hands to save my face
but he shall save me with blood-soaked grace
Flanked by thieves He climbed skeleton’s hill
and there, I see my cross, but spit on Him still
I posted the charge mocking this king
O death, here is your victory, and here is your sting
As my body shakes and the ground greets His dust
I see my heart prefers both the moth and the rust
I shot dice for His shirt to have as my own
but a snowy robe will be mine when He rolls back that stone
Straining for breath, blood flowing freely, He cries out with parched lips
and says blessed is your thirst, and contentment firmly grips
My mind wants to turn from what I see
and continue to shed blood with my hands and my feet
but He tells me “it is finished” from east to the west
and a new heart beats within my once stony chest
Why, O Lord, would you endure this death
“It is my joy” speaks a kind whisper’s breath
All is endured, the pain and the shame
all to give me a home and a name

He set heaven aside all for this grace
it was His joy to suffer, for me, in my place
“It is my joy, It is my joy”, His constant refrain
joy in spite of the sorrow and pain
“It is my joy”, a phrase opposing my heart
but it was his plan from time’s very start
“It is my joy”, Christ says loudly to me
these shackles I chose, I’m finally free
“It is my joy”, hanging upon that tree
He has become dust and wormwood for me

the life, death, pain, and shame,
all that came from taking my blame
will on the third day, break out of that tomb
the lifeless Lamb rising from sin’s merciless womb

The nails, spear, and cross, this was all his choice
so on this day that is Good…I will rejoice.