Tell Me Again, Father
by Pat Hood
Wednesday, December 31, 2003
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Just imagine the conversation between a Father and His Son.
Tell Me Again, Father
Let me see if I have this right, I want to understand
Iím to leave this ivory tower and put my feet on land.
Iím to be born in a lowly barn amongst the animals there
Iíll be heralded in by angels and receive gifts beyond compare.
After Iím born babies will die, there will be wailing and tears
All because of an arrogant king and his self-righteous fears.
My earthly parents will love me and train me in your way,
Knowing all the while that you control the day.
You say when I become a man and begin Your love to teach
That You will send me helpers for all the world to reach.
You tell me then, my Father, now correct me if Iím wrong,
That when I reach my finest hour I will suffer hard and long.
I will be hated by the leaders but loved by the common man.
I will be arrested, tried, convicted all at the Phariseeís hand.
Now this is the part I must get straight, I canít afford to err.
My arrest will come in a garden after a night of prayer?
It hardly seems proper, I mean, You say Iím perfectly made.
And yet Iím to die a criminalís death, with a debt that must be paid.
You say that I will never sin, and yet with sin Iíll die.
You warn that Youíll forsake me and all I can do is ask ĎWhy?í
Youíre going to leave me alone up there, upon a cross of wood.
With nails in my feet and hands, blinded by my own blood.
They will pierce my side and taunt me, all in Your holy name
Then throw the dice and divide my clothes as if it were a game.
But You will not be there, amidst the raging storm.
Iíll be alone, so all alone, while the templeís curtain is torn.
Theyíll lay me in a borrowed tomb, and leave me there for dead.
Forgive me, Father, I have difficulty, believing what Youíve said.
Iíve listened since the time before this crazy world began.
I know that some pure and innocent one must die for all of man.
Now, I donít know how to ask this without sounding rude,
Instead of dieing on the cross, canít I just be good?
No, I agree, it wouldnít work. But will you explain again,
After I die, in pain and woe, and am buried,