In approximately A.D. 1633, the famous painter Rembrandt van Rijn, painted “The raising of the cross” in which the artist painted himself (in the center wearing his painter’s hat) as one among many who placed Christ on the cross to bear the sin of all mankind.  By placing himself in the painting, Rembrandt wanted everyone to know that it was his sin that sent Christ to the cross, and it was his hands that lifted him up to die.  The artist’s depiction leaves no room for question about how he viewed his sins in regard to Jesus’ death.

In my poem, Christ to the Cross, I tried to capture in words what Rembrandt captured in his painting; that it was my sin and my hands that raised Christ onto the cross.  In truth, we must all see ourselves as guilty of Christ’s death, and at the same time, be glad that He was willing to die as our substitute.  To put it another way, we must realize that Christ died “in our place,” and that He took the punishment that was due to us.  Peter tells us “Christ also died for sins once for all, the just for the unjust, so that He might bring us to God, having been put to death in the flesh, but made alive in the spirit” (1 Pet. 3:18). This is the greatest trade-off in history; the “just for the unjust.”  Christ took our sins upon Himself, so we might receive His righteousness.

Christ to the Cross I and the Father led Christ to the cross, Together we placed Him there; I pushed Him forward, no care for the cost, His Father’s wrath to bear. Christ in the middle not wanting to die, Knelt in the garden and prayed; Great tears of blood the Savior did cry, Yet His Father He humbly obeyed. So He carried His cross down a dusty trail, No words on His lips were found; No cry was uttered as I drove the nails, And His arms to the cross were bound. I lifted my Savior with arms spread wide, He hung between heaven and earth; I raised my spear and pierced His side, What flowed was of infinite worth. Like a Lamb to the altar Christ did go, A sacrifice without blemish or spot; A knife was raised, and life did flow, In a basin the blood was caught. Past the incense table and the dark black veil, To that holy of holy places, The blood of Christ was made to avail, And all my sins it erases. This Lamb on a cross was a demonstration Of the Father’s love for me; For the Savior’s death brought satisfaction, Redeemed, and set me free. Now I come to the Savior by faith alone, Not trusting in works at all; Jesus my substitute for sin did atone, Salvation in answer to His call. Steven R. Cook Spring 2006

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