The Death of Jesus

The darkness fought, compelled the sun to flee,
And like a conquering army swiftly trod
Across the land, blind fear this despot’s rod.
The noon-day dark illumined tyranny.
Still worse, abandonment by Deity
Brought black despair more deadly than blood
That ran off with his life. “My God, my God,”
Cried Jesus, “why have you forsaken me?”
     The silence thundered. Heaven’s quiet reigned
     Supreme, a shocking, deafening, haunting swell.
     Because from answering Jesus, God refrained,
     I shall not cry, as he, this cry from hell.
The cry of desolation, black as night,
Shines forth across the world as brilliant light.

-Taken from D.A. Carson, Holy Sonnets of the Twentieth Century (Grand Rapids: Baker, 1994), 51.

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