The Death Of A Carpenter Poem by Bill Mitton

I find no guilt within this man
The Roman Prefect said
Whilst all around yelled Crucify!
We want to see him dead

As Pilate felt their Anger
he wondered at the fates
not five days on “Hosannas”
were replaced by screams of hate.

This Nazarene would surely die
If this went a further stage
“Scourge him well Centurion
and that might stem the rage”.

Using cruel iron clawed lashes
To strip his flesh from bone.
Soldiers jeered and mocked him
But he neither cried nor moaned

Once again they brought him
Before the Governor’s throne
in crown of thorns and Purple robe
to the baying crowd he’s shown

If they see I’ve scourged him badly
surely then their rage will wilt
“Be satisfied and let him go free
for I still can find no guilt.”

Unrest was not an option
was the message sent from Rome
Should this turn out ugly
It would not go well at home.

“Bring me out the Brigand
I think I have a plan
We’ll offer them an amnesty
Barrabas or this Man”

The Sanhedrin and Pharisees
had work upon the crowd
So when Pilate made his offer
BARRABAS! Came back loud

Amid all this the Carpenter
stood impassive to his fate
pain and death pre-ordained
likewise the rage and hate.

Then Pilate called for water
To wash away his part
In the fate of this young Carpenter
for fear gripped the Prefect’s heart

“Take him then and kill him
I wash my hands in shame.
This is all internal politics
for which Rome is not to blame.”

The Carpenter looked to this Sky
And his lips they moved in prayer
“Father they do not understand
This pain for them I bear.”

So they drove him to a hilltop
With whips, insults, and jeers
the carpenter he fell three times
hate ringing in his ears

They stripped him of his garments
And they nailed him to a cross
raised him up between two thieves
below a label writ to scoff.

In the midst of hate and anger
This young Carpenter he died
But his death was the beginning
For all like you and I

For now we know, unlike that crowd
That nailed upon that tree
Was Christ the Saviour, God’s own son
Who died to set men free

For in Glory he has risen
To the Trinity on High
Father Son and Spirit
So all who love will never die

So now I celebrate this Easter day
As I believe men should
In praise of this young carpenter
Who shaped Souls instead of Wood.