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John saw him,
standing amidst the seven golden lamp stands,
one like Son of Man,
dressed in a long robe,
his head and hair white as snow,
his face shone like a fire,
like the sun in full brilliance.
He is the Lamb
standing in the midst of the throne
still bearing the marks of slaughter:
He is Jesus of the glorious wounds.
Now, at last,
life’s meaning is clear.
God, our Father,
you mean to make good
on every promise you ever made to us.
Jesus lay in the tomb,
He could do no more
and you gazed on him
and cried out loud with a loud voice:
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“You are my Son,
this day I have begotten you!
How glorious you are Jesus!
Now that you passed
through death
your humanity is radiant
with your divine splendor.
We praise you Lord.
By your act of love on the cross,
death, our enemy
who mocks every human longing,
is swallowed up in victory.
Jesus,
Firstborn of dead,
we too will be born from the tomb
and reign, body and soul
in the glory of your gift of divine life.
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