From Jerusalem to Jericho,
Towards that cursed town,
Exchanging peace for pain and sorrow.
Stripped me and beat me, left me half dead.
Stuck here, bruised and lame
Will this wretched road be my deathbed?
I’m hurting! I’m dying! Does anyone care?
I have an urgent need!
But sadly it seems that no one is aware.
Descending like me. My case he’ll claim!
He passes by me,
Then comes a Levite and does the same.
They seemed to serve God and to honor His name.
Religion is empty!
It cannot heal me. All my wounds still remain.
Comes upon me and observes my plight.
Moved with compassion
He treats my wounds, binding them just right.
You poured oil and wine on my wounds, them to heal!
You put me on Your beast!
At last! Here is kindness and tenderness real.
The church, with all those under Your care.
And now I begin
To find some others still in despair.
Those without the Spirit and the life divine.
That they could be added,
And at Your return, the same care You would find.