Who is this Man?

Who is this man?

I have heard a rumor that he died for me.

They say he went willingly,

Without a word.

Spat on, cursed and spurned,

Made a spectacle of shame.

Slapped and mocked and told to prophesy,

“Who hit you?” one laughingly cried.

But he—he didn’t make a sound—not even a word,

They say, he humbled himself unto death,

What an absurd—what a crazy thing to do!

He left his thrown, his glory in heaven,

And came—for me…for you.

Who is this man?

He was tortured beyond recognition,

But still he shouldered the tree,

And then his beautiful, beautiful broken body,

Hung upon it, for you…for me.

Who is this man—

This man who took on all my guilt,

That wretched, ugly sin that held me bound,

To appease the wrath of a Holy God,

He took the blame that I would be found.

When I—I should have been the one—the object of wrath,

I deserve to eternal death.

But—He—this man—this holy, beautiful man,

He turn to The Father and said, “Charge their debts to me.”

Who is this man?

Who came to die that I—

That my soul be saved

Amazing grace how sweet the sound,

The sweetest sound ever made.

The precious blood that covers you and me,

And set these old lives free,

Who is this man?