Before the rooster crowed at dawn,

“I do not know Him!” “I do not know Him!” “I do not know Him!”

And when I turned away—cursing and denying You before the servant girl’s accusation— I met Your sorrowful eyes.

Lord, I weep, for I am the sinner who could not help but betray You.

You who fed five thousand in the wilderness, who walked upon the waters, who raised Lazarus from the dead— my Lord!

Even as the cries of “Hosanna! Hosanna!” still rang in my ears, why did You remain silent, embracing shame, humiliation, and the bonds of scorn?

I, who dared to vow that I would follow You even unto death, collapse like a grain of sand before the deep face of night.

You know this: that even now, this sinner is unaccustomed to meeting You as I ought.

“For whoever seeks to save his life will lose it, and whoever loses his life for My sake will find it.”

“If anyone would come after Me, let him deny himself, take up his cross, and follow Me.”

“The Son of Man came not to be served, but to serve, and to give His life as a ransom for many.”

Now, in regret, I fall at Your knees.

Unless I cut away the branches of my flesh with the very sword that once struck the ear of the Roman soldier, I cannot enter the dawn of Your glory; nor do I truly know who You are.

Ah— this empty desire, these hasty words and reckless deeds, this worldly honor and hollow pretense, this narrow self— Lord, shape them all with the burning sword of Your love and forgiveness!

O my Lord! I cast away the nets of my old life and lift up, with tears, the net of eternal life.

Let the cries of my flesh— shouting in the damp edges of this night— not strike the air in vain.

Let Your eternal promise become my life, my breath, my only boast.

Lord— how long must I wander in deeper darkness before I finally understand Your word: that one must die in order to live?

— Yoon Wan Hee, April 1, 1996