***
As we enter the Easter season, I thought I’d share a look at Jesus’ sacrifice from the perspective of the murderer whose life was spared because if Him.
My heart pounded
As they dragged me out.
They stood me close beside Him,
And I looked about.
The crowd was frenzied:
With rage and raw disgust.
I wasn’t sure the real cause —
Why they fumed and cussed.
I glanced beside me
To catch a glimpse of Him,
But what my eyes saw in His
Convicted me within.
When the guards shouted,
“Who’s it going to be?”
Then I understood they’d choose
To set one free.
“We want Barabbas!
Set Barabbas free!”
I could not believe my ears:
They chose, not Him, but me.
“But what of Jesus?”
Pilate asked the crowd.
“Crucify Him! Crucify Him!
He is not our God.
My shackles fell off:
By law a free man.
Pilate called for water then
And there he washed his hands.
The day grew darker
As He was hanging there,
Upon a cross with thieves each side;
Then He said a prayer.
He prayed, “Forgive them.”
Did that include me?
Then He cried, “It is finished!”
I thought, how can this be?
For suddenly I knew —
He’d died to save me too —
Even me — Barabbas.
+++
(Scripture Reference: Matthew 27)
~~~
~~~
~~~
Nathaniel was a man who knew no guile.
He walked with Jesus, loved Him all the while.
When first he heard His name, a question posed,
But waited ’til the answer was disclosed.
“From Nazareth can any good come forth?”
He asked of those who knew that city’s worth.
He asked for meditation, not reply,
Yet found the answer true in Jesus’ eyes.
And although from the garden he did run
With others as they scattered one by one,
As Roman guards led Jesus, bound, away,
There came a reckoning after the third day.
As Mary ran to spread the glorious news,
Nathaniel, hidd’n with others, all confused,
Received her words with doubt, and hope, and fear,
And hungered so His Master’s voice to hear.
Then Jesus stood among them, His work done:
Salvation for the world from Nazareth comes.
(Scripture Reference: John 1: 45-51, John 20)
~~~
~~~
Are you buried deep in sorrow
Over past and hurtful wounds?
Has the weight of your own failures
Left you feeling failure-doomed?
Has the peril of the systems
Of the economic sphere
Left you beaten down and overwhelmed
And buried under fear?
Has the rampant spread of sickness,
Diagnosis of sure death,
Left you reeling in confusion,
Condemned to draw your final breath?
Then look away: from all the darkness,
From the death and fear and pain.
Hear the rumble of the tombstone
As it rolls from off the grave.
See the lightning flash of glory
As the Son begins to rise,
As He steps from death’s dark dungeon:
The successful sacrifice.
Hear Him say, “The curse is broken!
I have come to give you life.
Ask of Me, and I will answer;
I have victory for your strife.
I’ve a storehouse of provisions;
I have healing for your pain;
I’ve forgiveness for your sin,
And I can make you clean again.
“For as surely as I died for you,
Took all your sin on me,
So My resurrection power is yours;
It’s enough to set you free.
There is no price;
It’s for the taking.
But the only place you’ll find it
Is in Me.”
~
~~~
O, Lamb of God
So pure, so holy, undefiled,
You came so meekly,
Vulnerable, a tiny child.
You took our sin
And took all of its consequence.
You chose the cross,
And on it your lifeblood was spent.
But for what cause,
When tempted in the garden that night,
Did you still choose
To let yourself be crucified?
You told us, Lord;
If we’d just listen, we would know.
You said, “Because
I love the Father, I will go.”
Lord, work in us
That holy and obedient love,
That we, when tried,
Will speak and act only for God.
~~~
(Photo courtesy of Karen’s Whimsy)
Seized and stripped and slapped and spit upon,
Scornful salutations; sorrow; shame;
Satan stalks the Son of God and Son of Man:
Scarlet stripes, scalding tears, searing pain;
Search the scriptures, surely they the story tell:
Insatiable evil strikes; the Lamb is slain.
But surely, it’s my sins He bore, my sorrow,
My sickness, my distress, my grief, my pain,
Submitted Sacrifice: He sealed the promise;
Sufficient, He bought me peace with God again.
~~~
~~~
My heart pounded
As they dragged me out.
They stood me close beside Him,
And I looked about.
The crowd was frenzied:
With rage and raw disgust.
I wasn’t sure the real cause —
Why they fumed and cussed.
I glanced beside me
To catch a glimpse of Him,
But what my eyes saw in His
Convicted me within.
When the guards shouted,
“Who is it going to be?”
Then I understood they’d choose
To set one free.
“We want Barabbas!
Set Barabbas free!”
I could not believe my ears:
They chose, not Him, but me.
“But what of Jesus?”
Pilate asked the crowd.
“Crucify Him! Crucify Him!
He is not our God!”
My shackles fell off:
By law a free man.
Pilate called for water then
And there he washed his hands.
The day grew darker
As He was hanging there,
Upon a cross with thieves each side;
Then He said a prayer.
He prayed, “Forgive them.”
Did that include me?
Then He cried, “It is finished!”
I thought, how can this be?
For suddenly I knew —
He’d died to save me too —
Even me — Barabbas.
+++
(Scripture Reference: Matthew 27)
~~~
~~~
I am setting myself the task, during Passion Week, of writing one poem a day about the suffering, death, and resurrection of our Lord Jesus Christ. I want to focus in some special way on His suffering and death, and then His glorious victory and resurrection for my sake.
I can’t think of a better way than to create a poem every day from today – Palm Sunday – through Resurrection Day – Easter Sunday. In fact, since much of the church in several parts of the world celebrates Easter Week (the week following Resurrection Day), I think I will even write a poem for Easter Monday of that week as well. I hope these poems add to your commemoration of our Lord’s loving sacrifice and to your celebration of His glorious salvation.
( Those of you who follow all three of my blogs will most likely see several of this week’s posts on all three sites. I just think they are too important to limit their publication to one small venue.)
Here’s Palm Sunday’s Poem:
SACRIFICE
A crown,
A diadem,
A shackle placed upon the brow.
Bestowed
Contemptuously,
And scarlet robe on shoulders bowed.
The grief,
The agony,
The tortuous, mutilating pain.
All born
By Innocence
To give me peace and health again.
A cross,
On Calvary:
To execute the Father’s plan.
A tomb,
Now empty stands:
He’s paid the price for every man.
~