Praying—with the Saints—to God Our Mother. Daniel F. Stramara
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Consider Abraham your father
and Sarah who gave you birth.
When he was just one I called him,
I blessed him and made him numerous.
Yahweh will surely comfort Zion,
have maternal compassion
on all her ruins;
will make her deserts like Eden,
and her wastelands like the garden
of Yahweh.
Joy and gladness shall be found in her,
thanksgiving and the sound of singing.
Isaiah 53:1–7 TNK
Who would dare believe
what we have heard?
To whom has the arm of Yahweh
been extended?
He sprouted like a tender sapling
before him,
like a shoot breaking
through arid ground.
He possessed no striking features
that would cause us to look at him;
no attractive appearance
that we should fix our eyes upon him.
He was shunned and rejected by others,
a man of sorrows accustomed
to suffering,
a man to make people
look the other way.
He was despised; we didn’t even give him a second thought.
Yet ours were the sufferings he bore,
ours the sorrows he shouldered.
But we reckoned him as someone
under a curse,
struck down by God, brought low.
Yet he was pierced for our faults,
crushed for our sins.
On his back lies the punishment that makes us whole,
and through his wounds
we have been healed.
All of us had gone astray like sheep,
each going his or her own way.
Yet Yahweh weighed him down
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