Cathédrale Notre-Dame de Paris
Stands in our night, knocks at the door.
Amid the bloody aching mess of birth,
All that went wrong, that's left, and still might be
Met there as Mary held her child:
The promised son instead of Cain and Abel.
Creator into His creation comes,
“The express image of His person”
Becoming creature, Son of Man,
Yet Stranger, 'mid a family scandal.
He, sharing sister's grief, called brother forth,
Instead of stench, the glory of the Lord.
He took on Him estrangement and our death,
Bore Adam's thorns, the scourging, and the cross,
And with the wheezing thieves beside him,
Pulled up to breathe 'gainst spikes in hands and feet.
This gory spectacle of suffering—death,
He shattered and renamed.
His love retook, redeemed, reconsecrated
Every kingdom of mankind.
And by the grace of His forgiveness,
We hope our stories too can be made new.