The Burden of Sin

Think with me for a moment, will you? Fire up the imagination, unlock the steamer trunk of memory, and think.

Do you remember the last time you became horribly aware of the filthiness and the terrible consequences of your sin? Do you remember that overpowering unspeakable agony of mind, body, heart? That terrifying realization that you and God were separated?

Now, imagine, if you can, that you're a sinless person. You've never sinned once. Your conscience, completely tender and responsive to God, has never felt the hardening influence of rebellion. You have such a perfect relationship with God that you and He are in constant communion.

Then, one day, your sworn enemy unleashes his full fury on you. You're betrayed by one of your closest friends, deserted and denied by your other friends, falsely accused, mocked, tortured almost to death, and nailed to a cross.You're forced to watch your mother's heart break over your torment, your ears are filled with the jeering of a crowd that's standing around to watch you die...and just when you reach your lowest point, it gets even worse. Suddenly, the full weight of every sin committed by every person who has lived, is living, or will live on this earth comes crashing down on...YOU.

Imagine the black, crushing horror of it.

Imagine the terror of feeling a separation from God for the first time in your life.

Imagine a weight, a strain, an agony so terrible that it kills you. 

No-one can believe that you've died so quickly...they can't understand that you've just been crushed to death by the weight of sin. 

How great the pain of searing loss,
The Father turns His face away
As wounds which mar the Chosen One
Bring many sons to glory. 
Behold the Man upon the cross,
My sin upon His shoulder.
Ashamed, I hear my mocking voice
Call out among the scoffers.
It was my sin that held Him there
Until it was accomplished. 
His dying breath has brought me life
I know that it is finished. 

Though Satan should buffet, though trials should come,
Let this blest assurance control,
That Christ has regarded my helpless estate,
And hath shed His own blood for my soul.
My sin, oh, the bliss of this glorious thought!
My sin, not in part, but the whole,
Is nailed to the cross, and I bear it no more,
Praise the Lord, praise the Lord, O, my soul!