You have somewhere written, O Christ, that you must reign until you destroy every rule and every authority and power, and that the last enemy to be destroyed will be Death. For you have written that your reign must endure until all your enemies have been put under your feet.
But how, O Lord, will you finally dispatch Death? Loitering at Heaven’s Gates and snatching stragglers away, will he be trampled by your teeming saints as they surge through those gates into glory?
Will you, with your foot on Death’s neck, kill him and then hang him on a tree? Think of it–the Curse cursed!
Or will you entice Death to sleep at your feet, only to crush his temple with the very tent peg that you used to tabernacle among us?
Have no mercy, O Lord, on Death, for he has shown no mercy to your children, and he showed least mercy of all to you. Grant us the joy of watching your wounded heel dance on his horrible head! His has been a reign of most wretched terror, so slay Death soon, and have no mercy, O Christ!
