Well, it’s Easter time: colored eggs, candies, and a Sunday meal with Family. If that is all we see, though, we have missed the greatest gift of all time. Jesus. God made flesh. Born to die, to take my much deserved punishment on his own perfect self. That is Easter—the sacrificial death of a perfect God, offering grace to an undeserving people, fulfilling his perfect justice by pouring out his judgement and wrath upon himself. That is an incredible story line.
I came upon a picture of the crucifixion scene painted by the famous Rembrandt. You can see the picture here. You can note the man in the white turban directing the murder. The man’s face looks quite similar to some self-portraits Rembrandt painted. He had painted his own face into the crucifixion, not as a martyr, but as the one conducting the heinous act. I was struck by this concept, and this poem is what was born out of it.
My Rembrandt’s Face
By Ryan J. Doughan
So paint my face into the crowd,
For I was there and screamed aloud.
Now crucify, Oh, crucify;
This is my Lord I crucify.
I force the thorns upon your brow.
You bleed for me; this is your crown.
Demands of mine force blood of yours;
It dances down from skin and pores.
I spit on you; you stare at me,
Your gentle love for all to see.
My hand beats bruises on your face.
I mock you, yet you show me grace.
So paint my face into the crowd,
For I was there and screamed aloud.
Now crucify, Oh, crucify;
This is my Lord I crucify.
I crack the whip that tears your skin.
Your crimson warmth now bathes my sin.
I scourge again, and then again
To see if Satan might yet win.
Sweat drips from me, and blood from you.
You’ll bare my cross yet bless me too
Now up the hill I’ll force you on,
And bring the tree you’ll die upon.
So paint my face into the crowd,
For I was there and screamed aloud.
Now crucify, Oh, crucify;
This is my Lord I crucify.
Now hammer falls, and nails must hold.
Pain’s loving blood for many sold.
It drips on me, this love of yours;
You’ve washed me with your very sores.
I drop the hammer, raise the cross,
And now you’ll pay for all my cost
I curse your name, enjoy the scene,
Rest in my filth and the obscene.
So paint my face into the crowd,
For I was there and screamed aloud.
Now crucify, Oh, crucify;
This is my Lord I crucify.
“Come down from there.” I scream at you.
Then I’ll believe and worship too.
Grace strikes me with this mighty blow.
“Forgive them Dad for they don’t know.”
You stare at me in your pain too,
Your eyes scream out, “This is for you.”
The sky turns dark and dismal hue.
I am ashamed I murdered you.
So paint my face into the crowd,
For I was there and screamed aloud.
Now crucify, Oh, crucify;
This is my Lord I crucify.
Now desecration is complete,
With sin I’ve sealed my own defeat.
I lay sprawled out beneath your cross,
With three days yet to count my loss.
But you arise; you’ve won the fight,
And see me there at dawn’s first light.
Through grace and love, and with a tree,
You don’t damn me; you set me free.
So paint my face into the crowd,
For I was there and screamed aloud.
Now crucify, Oh, crucify;
This is my Lord I crucify.
So paint my face into the crowd,
For here I am, my knee is bowed.
Now crucify, Oh, crucify;
This is my Lord I crucify.
Happy Easter, everyone. I pray that we can look beyond the colored eggs this season to see the Lord of the world who took our punishment to bridge the gap and let us have a relationship with him.
I came upon a picture of the crucifixion scene painted by the famous Rembrandt. You can see the picture here. You can note the man in the white turban directing the murder. The man’s face looks quite similar to some self-portraits Rembrandt painted. He had painted his own face into the crucifixion, not as a martyr, but as the one conducting the heinous act. I was struck by this concept, and this poem is what was born out of it.
My Rembrandt’s Face
By Ryan J. Doughan
So paint my face into the crowd,
For I was there and screamed aloud.
Now crucify, Oh, crucify;
This is my Lord I crucify.
I force the thorns upon your brow.
You bleed for me; this is your crown.
Demands of mine force blood of yours;
It dances down from skin and pores.
I spit on you; you stare at me,
Your gentle love for all to see.
My hand beats bruises on your face.
I mock you, yet you show me grace.
So paint my face into the crowd,
For I was there and screamed aloud.
Now crucify, Oh, crucify;
This is my Lord I crucify.
I crack the whip that tears your skin.
Your crimson warmth now bathes my sin.
I scourge again, and then again
To see if Satan might yet win.
Sweat drips from me, and blood from you.
You’ll bare my cross yet bless me too
Now up the hill I’ll force you on,
And bring the tree you’ll die upon.
So paint my face into the crowd,
For I was there and screamed aloud.
Now crucify, Oh, crucify;
This is my Lord I crucify.
Now hammer falls, and nails must hold.
Pain’s loving blood for many sold.
It drips on me, this love of yours;
You’ve washed me with your very sores.
I drop the hammer, raise the cross,
And now you’ll pay for all my cost
I curse your name, enjoy the scene,
Rest in my filth and the obscene.
So paint my face into the crowd,
For I was there and screamed aloud.
Now crucify, Oh, crucify;
This is my Lord I crucify.
“Come down from there.” I scream at you.
Then I’ll believe and worship too.
Grace strikes me with this mighty blow.
“Forgive them Dad for they don’t know.”
You stare at me in your pain too,
Your eyes scream out, “This is for you.”
The sky turns dark and dismal hue.
I am ashamed I murdered you.
So paint my face into the crowd,
For I was there and screamed aloud.
Now crucify, Oh, crucify;
This is my Lord I crucify.
Now desecration is complete,
With sin I’ve sealed my own defeat.
I lay sprawled out beneath your cross,
With three days yet to count my loss.
But you arise; you’ve won the fight,
And see me there at dawn’s first light.
Through grace and love, and with a tree,
You don’t damn me; you set me free.
So paint my face into the crowd,
For I was there and screamed aloud.
Now crucify, Oh, crucify;
This is my Lord I crucify.
So paint my face into the crowd,
For here I am, my knee is bowed.
Now crucify, Oh, crucify;
This is my Lord I crucify.
Happy Easter, everyone. I pray that we can look beyond the colored eggs this season to see the Lord of the world who took our punishment to bridge the gap and let us have a relationship with him.
RSS Feed