Behold the Lamb of God

The morning broke with golden light,

And hush fell o’er the desert wide,

As heaven stirred and angels leaned—

To watch the One long prophesied.

John stood beside the river’s grace,

A voice that cried in desert air,

Yet when He came, the Prophet bowed—

For holiness was standing there.

"Behold the Lamb!" the herald cried,

His voice rang out, both fierce and mild,

The Lamb of God, so pure, so still,

The Father’s own, the heaven-born Child.

No crown He wore, no sword He drew,

Yet all of sin would meet its end.

The spotless One, the sacrifice,

The sinner’s hope, the sinner’s Friend.

He walked with purpose, calm and sure,

The weight of mercy in His frame.

The world’s great guilt upon His path,

Yet still He came, and bore the blame.

O bleeding Lamb, so meek, so strong,

Who bore our shame, who righted wrong—

We lift our eyes in grateful awe,

Behold the Lamb God, our saving Grace.

Amen