Nothing But the Blood

On the last day of camp, Douglas Crossman preached on "the crimson thread that runs through the entire Bible." (You have to say that with a British accent to get the full impact.)
It was a powerful sermon, and a great reminder of why we believe. I wish I could hear more sermons like that. It seems to carry my soul straight to Heaven to worship the One whose blood was "violently extracted" (Crossman's definition of "shed") for me.
Two hymns (probably more, but these were the ones that stuck with me) were mentioned in the sermon. I love the way Wesley makes His point by repeating the most powerful words in the second hymn. If you read these words, pause just a moment to contemplate their truth and worship the Lamb of God who takes away the sin of the world.

Glory be to Jesus, who in bitter pains
Poured for me the lifeblood from His sacred veins!

Grace and life eternal in that blood I find;
Blest be His compassion, infinitely kind!

Blest through endless ages be the precious stream
Which from endless torments did the world redeem!

Abel's blood for vengeance pleaded to the skies;
But the blood of Jesus for our pardon cries.
Glory Be to Jesus, Italian hymn, 18th century, Tr., Edward Caswall, 1857

Arise, my soul, arise. Shake off thy guilty fears.
The bleeding Sacrifice in my behalf appears.
Before the throne my Surety stands, Before the throne my Surety stands;
My name is written on His hands.

He ever lives above for me to intercede,
His all-redeeming love, His precious blood to plead.
His blood atoned for all our race, His blood atoned for all our race,
And sprinkles now the throne of grace.

Five bleeding wounds He bears, received on Calvary.
They pour effectual prayers; They strongly plead for me.
"Forgive Him, O forgive," they cry. "Forgive Him, O forgive," they cry,
"Nor let that ransomed sinner die."

The Father hears Him pray, His dear Anointed One;
He cannot turn away the presence of His Son.
His Spirit answers to the blood, His Spirit answers to the blood,
And tells me I am born of God.

My God is reconciled; His pard'ning voice I hear.
He owns me for His child; I can no longer fear.
With confidence I now draw nigh, With confidence I now draw nigh,
And, "Father, Abba, Father," cry.
Arise, My Soul, Arise, Charles Wesley, 1742