I was there yesterday, lost in the angry tide,
I watched them drag Him forward, His hands and feet still tied.
The mob cried out for judgment, their faces full of hate,
And though I longed to stop them - I let Him meet His fate.
I saw Him stand in silence beneath their scornful jeers,
No fear was in His bearing, though death was drawing near.
I knew He spoke of heaven, of mercy, love, and light,
Yet still, I kept my silence - I did not stand and fight.
I could have told the rulers that Jesus healed the lame,
That He had fed the hungry and lifted hearts in shame.
I could have told them stories of widows blessed with bread,
Of children He embraced, of mourners comforted.
But fear had gripped my spirit, the guards looked fierce and strong,
If I had dared defend Him, would I have lasted long?
Would I be bound in iron, condemned to share His fate?
Would I be mocked and beaten, abandoned to their hate?
And so I stood in shadows and let my Saviour fall,
I turned away in silence when I should have given all.
And now He lies within a tomb, behind a heavy stone,
And I, who should have spoken, am left to grieve alone.
Yet whispers fill the city, strange murmurs in the street,
Some claim the grave will open, and His nail wounds will all be seen!
But fear still grips His people - we hide in locked-up rooms,
Afraid to call Him Master, afraid to face our doom.
Oh, if there were a Spirit to set our hearts on fire,
To burn away our cowardice, to fill us with desire!
To make us bold like Jesus, to stand when others flee,
To give us strength to suffer, to love courageously!
I was there yesterday - I failed Him, it is true,
But if His love still lingers, if all He said was true,
Then may the Lord have mercy, and may He send us grace,
To speak His name with courage, to stand and take our place.