Poem - Jesus of the Scars

Jesus of the Scars

Edward Shillito (1872-1948),

Free Church minister in England during World War I:

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If we have never sought, we seek You now;

Your eyes burn through the dark, our only stars;

We must have sight of thorn-pricks on your brow,

We must have You, O Jesus of the Scars.

The heavens frighten us; they are too calm;

In all the universe we have no place.

Our wounds are hurting us; where is the balm?

Lord Jesus, by Your Scars, we claim Your grace.

If, when the doors are shut, You draw near,

Only reveal those hands, that side of Yours;

We know to-day what wounds are, have no fear,

Show us Your Scars, we know the countersign.

The other gods were strong; but You were weak;

They rode, but You did stumble to a throne;

But to our wounds only God's wounds can speak,

And not a god has wounds, but You alone.

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