O Jesus of the poor,
you took our poverty to make all rich,
sin and suffering wore,
our naked need to fill.
O Lord Jesus Christ
of the empty hands.
Just this do you ask me for:
to live your justice’s will.
O Jesus of the weak.
Hands of the healer stretched and scarred and bruised,
which rebuked the sleek
and summoned the unseen.
O Lord Jesus Christ,
light come to the blind.
Give me sight and strength to seek
the suffering you redeem.
O Jesus of the pained,
holding your children when they turn away.
Comfort unconstrained
by fear of your embrace.
O Lord Jesus Christ,
garland for my ash.
Your touch: paradise regained;
forgiveness in your face.
O Jesus of the lost,
knowing us in complete abandonment,
desolation’s cost,
to carry exiles home.
O Lord Jesus Christ,
dawn when darkness reigns.
Whose feet death’s deep river crossed
to make me fully known.
O Victor over death,
limbs that were wounded now proclaim your power!
Hands that breaking, blessed,
now hold love’s deathless joy!
O Lord Jesus Christ,
sun of this poor soul:
in you may I live and rest
in endless love’s employ!
