Judas, with the priests, was ever so bold
As Jesus, his Friend, for silver he sold;
Then went and hanged himself,
Scripture has told,
But this is not what redeemed me!
To the smiters Jesus gave His back;
They “made long their furrows,” a vicious attack;
In spite of such hatred, He never turned back-
Yet this could never redeem me!
And His cheeks to them who plucked off the hair
He gave-the One who is of God the heir;
Thus Roman justice was forfeited there,
Though this is not what redeemed me!
The soldiers a crown of thorns plaited
And put on the head of Him whom they hated;
The injustice went on unabated,
But this is not what redeemed me!
My sins’ heavy load He bore on the tree
As the Lord laid on Him the iniquity;
He can now righteously set us free,
And this is how He redeemed me!
“It is finished,” He cried, and then bowed His head;
A soldier who knew He was already dead
Thrust a spear in His side; thus was His blood shed:
This it was that has redeemed me!