When I was about 12 years old I found myself in trouble with the law. Seemed like I was forever in trouble at school, home and now the law. I was ashamed of what I seemed constantly to do but I felt powerless to change my ways. Our church had Wednesday evening youth meetings and fun time was always followed by something of a more serious nature in the sanctuary

I will never forget that night. Completely overwhelmed with guilt and shame for who I was I found myself walking forward and kneeling at the altar rail. Soon I felt someone on either side of me, two women, encouraging me. I wept profusely that night and accepted Jesus Christ as my savior.

I wish I could tell you this was a day that would change my life for the better. It was not. Young, impressionable and seeking self- indulgence, I soon went my merry way but the seed was planted. No matter how far I strayed away, something kept calling me back. When time finally came for me to make a genuine commitment, I knew and understood that Jesus died for my sins but the totality of all of it did not really register at the time.

Many years later when I finally sat down and contemplated my life, my decisions, the direction I was headed I revisited that night at the altar time and time again. I recalled the often used phrase I had heard all my life, "Jesus died for me" He bore my sins on a cross of shame. He took on Himself, my sins, that I might have eternal life.

How many times have you heard these words in your lifetime? Ten, twenty, maybe hundreds. I know I had. In spite of all the times I had heard them the true meaning had not really settled in. They were simply words. Yes, Jesus died for me. Thanks Jesus.

Then one day, I sat alone. I thought. For a long time I thought about these very words. If Jesus really did die for my sins, then it was my sin that was the cause of him dying. If Jesus died for your sins then it was your sin that caused him to die. If Jesus died for our sins then it was our sin that killed him.

I read of his prayer in the Garden. His arrest. His conviction. I now became aware that my sin resulted in his arrest and conviction. I read about the stripes he bore, the cruel mocking, the spittle and I realize that my sin was the cause of all of this. I read of His crown of thorns, His Crucifixion and the sword that pierced His side and it now became apparent, I am the guilty one.

It wasn't the Romans or Pilate, it wasn't the Jews. It was me. My sin crucified Christ. I am so sorry for my part in this terrible tragedy. I wish it were not so however I am so, eternally grateful to Jesus Christ for his work on the cross and his willingness to die for me, that I might have eternal life. With this in mind, about twenty years ago I wrote the following poem.

 

 

 

Who crucified the blameless Christ,
And nailed Him to the Tree,
Who caused the lamb to suffer,
And go through such agony,

Who betrayed the Master,
Supposedly a friend,
Who fled when they arrested Him,
For fear it was the end,

Who denied he knew this man,
Not once, not twice, but three,
Who crucified the blameless Christ,
And nailed Him to the tree.

Who delivered Him to Pilate,
Bound in heavy chain,
Who took a stick and beat Him,
That He might feel the pain,

Who pushed and shoved, then called him names,
That He might know disgrace,
Who gathered spittle in their mouth,
Then spat upon His face,

Who laughed when He would stumble,
On His way to Calvary,
Who shouted taunts when He walked by,
And mocked Him endlessly,

Who struck the nails that pierced the flesh,
And caused the Lamb to bleed,
Who, I ask, is guilty of,
This dreadful, dreadful deed,

Who made a crown of many thorns,
Then placed it on His head,
Who pierced His side with a soldier’s sword,
To be sure that He was dead,

I crucified the blameless Christ,
And I betrayed a friend,
I denied I knew Him thrice,
And fled before the end,

I beat Him, shoved Him, kicked Him,
Then spat upon His face,
I laughed and mocked, then taunted Him,
That He would know disgrace,

Yes....... I struck the nails, that pierced the flesh,
That caused the Lamb to bleed,
I am the one, so guilty of,
This dreadful, dreadful deed,

I placed the thorn upon His head,
I shoved the saber in,
Do you know how I did it?
I did it with my sin,

He endured this suffering,
It's something that He chose,
This Christ that died, was buried,
On the third day, He arose,

It was my sin that put Him there,
My sin that did Him in,
He drew me near in comfort,
Then He forgave that sin.

Thank you Jesus,

Ron Bliss

used by permission
Copyright © Ron Bliss
All Rights Reserved 

 

     



NOTE:  When I created this page, I had
just started web page building and had
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