Christ’s sacrifice

Illustration by Talia Valderrama.

Keep family and friends informed by sharing this article.

Share on facebook
Share on twitter
Share on linkedin
Share on email

Disowned or fled by His disciples, 
They didn’t want that sinful end, 
That He was called to bear. 
The weight of sin was pressing down, 
with heartbreaking agony. 
He loudly called to His Father: 
“My God! My God! Why have you, forsaken Me!” 
In the depths of physical suffering, 
He called out to quench His thirst! 
Refusing a taste of vinegar, 
His anguish was at its worst. 
Suddenly in clear tones: 
“It is finished!” Jesus cried. 
His head fell down upon His breast, 
For it was just then He died. 

Speared by a soldier, 
to see the job was done. 
Blood and water flowed right down, 
from God’s precious only Son. 
Jesus Christ the Saviour 
had set all sinners free, 
He was the perfect sacrifice, 
when He hung upon that tree. 
(He did that for you and me.) 

Looking o’r the multitude, what is this we see. 
Lying there upon the ground was not one cross but three!
The Lord in all His anguish for everyone to see, 
Had only thieves beside Him to keep Him company. 

Christ’s body was so battered, blood was spilling down.
That’s the way they treated Him, the Healer of renown.
A nailed piece of parchment flutters high to give sad news:
“Jesus of Nazareth, the King of the Jews.” 

Christ in all His suffering thought of sinners too.
“Father forgive them, for they know not what they do.” 
As He saw His mother so distraught with human woe,
He spoke to John the disciple, and homeward they did go. 

Above the jeering people, a cry silenced everyone. 
“Lord remember me, when you come to your kingdom.” Quickly Jesus answers to that repentant thief. 
“You shall be with me, because of your belief.” 

The three of them have hung there in their hours of agony, 
Darkness came down and veiled them so the people couldn’t see. 
Angry lightning flashed about on that black and gloomy scene. 
People fell prostrated as they remembered how they’d been.

Looking back in history such a long, long time ago.
A sunrise on a Friday and many people didn’t know,
that evil men were working long before the dawn.
They had the gentle Healer, and they spoke His name with scorn.

First it was to Annas and Caiaphas, then off to Pilate too. 
Then it was to Herod, to see what he would do. 
Back He came to Pilate, yes, he would be the one. 
He let the people crucify God’s precious only Son. 

Jeered, mocked and spat on, soldiers scourged Him with full might. 
Pilate thought twice scourging would make everything alright. 
Yet, Jesus or Barabbas, what will the mob’s choice be?
Mad fury urged the people on, and Barabbas was set free. 
The leaders grabbed at Jesus and roughly led the way.
Pilate went and washed his hands, to cleanse himself some way.

And so we see the people trooping down the road, 
And we see the Saviour falling with His load. 
Simon was pushed forward to help the Saviour now.
Few shed tears of pity for the crown that spiked His brow. 
Just a little further on and we reach that dreadful hill.
The place was called Golgotha, a place for the law to kill.

Related Stories
en_AUEnglish