Poems (Carter)/Barabbas at the crucifixion
BARABBAS AT THE CRUCIFIXION.
There on that Cross I see the Man—my substitute!And in myself I see the man preferred, and freedFrom prison and from death, and given back to life!What life? 'Twas our own nation—His and mine that choseTo crucify the Nazarene—and for what crime?Themselves have spoken: "He saved others!" and, "In GodHe trusted!" O great God of Hosts! what have I done?Thou knowest every step of my bad life, until—Maddened by hate and jealousy—I fanned the flameOf passions like my own, and insurrection ledAgainst all law and order—yea! and raised my handWith deadly blow against the bravest man I knew!A Roman—yes, and a centurion, but oneWho loved our nation, building us a synagogue.My God! I killed him! and his blood will be on me,And on my guiltless children for my sake! O God!Hast Thou not power to overcome that Fiend of HellWho tempted me and drew me on from bad to worse!Hark! He on yonder Cross is speaking to the thief—I knew him well in prison as we two lay boundTogether. No! 'Tis Achan speaking to the King—For so has Pilate named Him: "Lord, remember meWhen to Thy Kingdom Thou hast come!" And hark!What saith the Nazarene? "Today, in Paradise,Shalt thou be with Me!" What! Achan! the thief! my pal! O God of Jacob! would that I could hear such words'!How could they crucify that Man? Some say He wasThe Son of God! and Pilate said he found in HimNo fault! God! What a world! The faultless crucified,And I released—and yet, if Achan was received,Is there-no hope for me? I know He raised the dead—This Nazarene, Whom Achan calleth "Lord" and "King."Hark! for again He speaks—He, Who was crucified for me!"Father, into Thy hands I now commit my soul!"O Nazarene! I bow myself before Thy Cross,On which I should have hung, and humbly I imploreThat Thou wilt save me! Save me, Lord, as Thou hast savedAchan, my friend, a sinner like myself, O Lord!Help me to take again my life from Thee and serve—Not self and Satan, but Thyself and God, and giveAll that I have and am, to pay the debt I oweTo Him, Who here is crucified instead of me.
Montclair, Jan., 1915.