by Jonathan

They were unclean and unwell, with oozing sores and wounded hearts.
He touched them anyway.

They were dirty and uncouth, sinners all.
He ate with them anyway.

They disbelieved, decried, and occasionally denied.
He loved them anyway.

He knew that nine out of ten wouldn’t say thanks for his regenerative gift.
He healed them anyway.

The tax man and fisherman weren’t looking for a revolution, or a teacher.
He called them anyway.

The rebel man was looking for revolution and a leader, but the wrong kind.
He called him anyway.

They were religious and in charge, with Abraham their father and Law their protector.
He challenged them anyway.

They were cruel and foreign, warrior oppressors gambling for his last shred of dignity.
He forgave them anyway.

They locked his corpse behind stone and guard and seal, ensuring that death and darkness held their catch.

He rose anyway.

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Christ is Risen.
He is Risen Indeed!