I have been reading, praying and preparing for our next sermon series on the cross. One of the great joys has been singing solid atonement hymns in the shower. I was raised on this stuff. One hymn in particular hits me hard. It tales me back to my childhood, as I recall my father standing in church, singing it with tears flowing down his cheeks and his hands stretched out toward heaven.
Far from a trained, well-read theologian, my dad was rejoicing in God’s free gift of salvation. He knew he was purchased with a price.
What can wash away my sin?
Nothing but the blood of Jesus;
What can make me whole again?
Nothing but the blood of Jesus.
Oh! precious is the flow
That makes me white as snow;
No other fount I know,
Nothing but the blood of Jesus.
For my pardon, this I see,
Nothing but the blood of Jesus;
For my cleansing this my plea,
Nothing but the blood of Jesus.
Nothing can for sin atone,
Nothing but the blood of Jesus;
Naught of good that I have done,
Nothing but the blood of Jesus.
This is all my hope and peace,
Nothing but the blood of Jesus;
This is all my righteousness,
Nothing but the blood of Jesus.
Now by this I’ll overcome—
Nothing but the blood of Jesus,
Now by this I’ll reach my home—
Nothing but the blood of Jesus.
Glory! Glory! This I sing—
Nothing but the blood of Jesus,
All my praise for this I bring—
Nothing but the blood of Jesus.
