His Blood is on My Soul

There's a story about a cruel and bloody war, where the commander took an oath that he would slaughter the entire population of a certain town. His bloodthirsty troops fell upon that town unexpectedly one night, and they were let loose on those defenseless people. One of the citizens of that village watched in horror as he hid behind a tree, while a number of soldiers broke into a house and slaughtered everybody inside.

On leaving the home, one of the soldiers dipped a cloth in a pool of blood and splashed it on the door as a sign to anyone who might follow that everyone inside was dead. The witness to this horrible event, who was hiding behind the tree, ran as fast as he could to his family's home in the center of town, and when he got there, he related to them what he just witnessed, and immediately they knew what to do. A goat was in the yard.

They killed it without delay and splashed its blood on the door. They closed the door just before soldiers rushed into their street, but when they came to the blood-marked door, they made no attempt to enter. The sword, so they thought, had already done its work of murder, and while all the other defenseless inhabitants of that town were butchered that bloody night, all within the blood-marked door were safe and saved.

And that story reminds me, friends, of the passage from the Book of Exodus, which speaks of another blood-marked door, where Moses instructed the congregation of Israel to take every man a lamb and kill it in the evening, and take a bunch of hyssop and dip it in the blood and strike the lentil and two side-posts with the blood. And in Exodus 12 it states, And it came to pass, that at midnight, the Lord smote all the firstborn in the land of Egypt. And there was a great cry in Egypt, for there was not a house where there was not one dead.

But the children of Israel were safe behind the blood-marked door, for the Lord had said, When I see the blood, I will pass over you. O friends, how few churches today even make mention of a cross on which a bloody Savior died. I remember a time years ago that our churches used to sing about the blood.

We used to sing, What can wash away my sins? Nothing but the blood of Jesus. And we sang, There's power, power, a wonder-working power, in the precious blood of the Lamb. And we sang, And there's a fountain, filled with blood, from Emmanuel's veins, and sinners plunge beneath that flood, lose all their guilty stains.

But most of our churches today got rid of all the songs about the blood. We had to, because when we quit preaching against sin, we had to quit singing about the blood. Us preachers have gotten out our mouth-buckets and cleaned up all the blood and gore around Calvary.

We've made it so pristine you can sit there and have your lunch. There's no need to preach up a bloody cross anymore, because there is no need for man to repent and be saved. That's what they tell us today, even though the Son of God declared, Except ye repent, ye shall likewise perish.

And that means you, friend, even if you are the chairman of the deacons. Let me ask you, friend, is Christ's blood on your soul? Are you under the blood God declares in His word, For the life of the flesh is in the blood. And I have given it to you upon the altar to make an atonement for your souls.

For it is in the blood that maketh an atonement for the soul. And my Bible says in 1 John 1.7, But if we walk in the light, we have fellowship one with another. And the blood of Jesus Christ, His Son, cleanses us from all sin.

And that's all encompassing all, friends. Listen, there isn't a sin or the sight of hell too bad to be saved. But you must get under the blood.

We see in Revelation 1.5, Unto Him that loved us and washed us from our sins in His own blood. And the Apostle Paul tells us in Romans 5.9, Much more than being now justified by His blood. We should be saved from wrath through Him.

Oh, friends, there's power in the blood. And the gospel of my Bible is covered in the blood of Christ. For He died on a bloody cross for my rotten sins.

And the only reason my soul be kept out of hell is because His blood is on my soul. And that's the title of my message today, friends. His blood is on my soul.

And I wrote a little poem I want to share with you today called His blood is on my soul. On Calvary's hill there stood a cross so many years ago. And on that cross my Savior died.

His blood is on my soul. Christ shed His blood for my great sins and washed me white as snow. He died so that I could live.

His blood is on my soul. The devil comes and tempts me sore with all that he can throw. But I don't care if hell explodes.

His blood is on my soul. This world with all its heaps of gold can't tempt me anymore. For Jesus is my life, my all.

His blood is on my soul. And when I die and face my God before His judgment throne I cannot stand on anything but that His blood is on my soul. Let us pray.