The servant

Who would ever have believed it?
Who would ever have conceived it?
Who dared trace God’s hand behind it
When a servant came among us?

Like a sapling in dry soil,
He was rooted in our presence;
Lacking beauty, grace and splendour,
No one felt attracted to him.

We despised him, we disowned him,
Though he clearly hurt and suffered:
We, believing he was worthless,
Never turned our eyes towards him.

Yet it was the pain and torment
We deserved which he accepted,
While we reckoned his afflictions
Must have come by heaven’s instruction.

Though our sins let him be wounded,
Though our cruelty left him beaten,
Yet, through how and why he suffered,
God revealed our hope of healing.

We, like sheep despite our wisdom,
All had wandered from God’s purpose;
And our due in pain and anger
God let fall on one among us.

Who would ever have believed it?

Who would ever have conceived it?

Who dared trace God’s hand behind it

When a servant came among us?

©1988  WGRG, Iona Community, Govan, Glasgow G51 3UU, Scotland

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