I am Barabbas

I am Barabbas

Pilate was in a quandary,
He didn’t know what to do.
Jesus, he knew, was not guilty;
His accusers had failed their case to prove.
His wife had suffered greatly;
“Do this man no harm!” she warned.
But the riotous crowds were yelling loudly,
“Crucify that blasphemous scoundrel!”

An idea! No one likes Barabbas!
“I’ll offer them somthing they despise more.”
But Pilate underestimated their malice
And the hatred they felt in their heart.

Who should have died that day?
Barabbas, of course!
He was a sinner, condemned,
A reviler, revolter, despiser, murderer.
And Jesus? He was innocent.
Never sinned, not once. And silent.
The Son of God Most High.

Who walked that cruel walk
And faced the gruesome death?
Not the guilty but the innocent
My Savior, the King.

You see, I am Barabbas.
My sins deserved great punishment
But I have walked free, forgiven of all
While Jesus in my place was crucified.
The gospel displayed for all to see
The unjust exchanged of sin for freedom
Yes, I am Barabbas,
And I have been set free.

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