Abba Father, if this cup, 

cannot pass from me, 

not my will but yours be done: 

To the dregs will I drink. 

In the scroll it written stands 

That I should do your holy will.

In your law will I delight 

In the depth of my heart.

Not for sacrifice you ask; 

here is my offering an open ear,

See the holocaust I bring: 

Here am I, O Lord.

Your compassion, love and truth, 

constantly turns my death into life Lord,

Lord, your justice I proclaim 

To my friends gathered here.