God of freedom, God of justice,
you whose love is strong as death,
you who saw the dark of prison,
you who knew the price of faith —
touch our world of sad oppression
with your Spirit's healing breath.
Rid the earth of torture's terror,
you whose hands were nailed to wood;
hear the cries of pain and protest,
you who shed the tears and blood —
move in us the power of pity
restless for the common good.
Make in us a captive conscience
quick to hear, to act, to plead;
make us truly sisters, brothers
of whatever race or creed —
teach us to be fully human,
open to each other's needs.
Words: Shirley Erena Murray (1931 – 2020) New Zealand
Source: © 1992 Hope Publishing Company . All rights reserved. Used by permission.
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