
Held to blame stood the blameless, guilt upon the innocent. Horrifying shouts for death from riotous crowds. There you stood, before the Prefect of Judea, Pontius Pilate (who washed his hands clean of the deed).
You the innocent to be tried and judged guilty. Aching heart, beating full in my chest ... I wonder at the sacrifice; you who is the perfect gift of love to be condemned for the likes of me.
I have done many a horrific deed; stains upon hands that have partaken in much wrong doing. I am the guilty, not you! And yet, there you stood before Pilate - accused, convicted, condemned. All for love ... all for redemption ... all for salvation. My salvation, my redemption (love? for even me?). Lord Jesus? how could you ... ? why would you ... ? I cannot ever repay the debt you have covered.
Father God, let me be judged - the sinful creature I am - not your son ... let not innocent blood be spilled for my crimes! I am a child of God because of your sacrifice, Lord Jesus; accused, convicted, condemned - to death ... my death ... to yet live eternally with you in heaven. Father God, thank you for the atonement that I am not worthy of through the condemnation of the innocent.



