I rarely got in trouble as a kid—at least, that’s how I remember it. As a child, my honest assessment of getting in trouble was that it was rarely, if ever, my fault. Whenever the question came, “Who did this?” or “Who started the fight?” I automatically pointed my finger at my brother or sister.

I’d like to say I’ve outgrown that instinct. But even now, I often find myself assigning blame before I’ve looked within. There’s something deeply ingrained in us that resists admitting fault. We too easily deflect, justify, and shift responsibility. This propensity to blame is so well-formed into our psyche that when we can’t find someone in the room to blame, we begin pointing the finger at God.

Blaming God is quite Biblical. It is a common occurrence throughout scripture, one in which humanity is well versed. From Adam and Eve down to those crying, “crucify him,” we’ve got centuries of practice.

In the face of accusation and violence, Jesus stands apart. He points no fingers, makes no refutation. He does not deflect or retaliate. Instead, he says, “Father, forgive them, for they know not what they do,” receiving the weight of blame into his own body.

There is a striking moment before his condemnation when the crowd cries out, “His blood be on us and on our children!” It is a statement spoken in ignorance—yet it reveals something profound. The very blood they invoke in their accusations becomes the means of salvation. If ever so slight, it even sounds like an inkling of accepting the blame for a shameful act.

But in that moment, it is merely a cry of ignorance, not acceptance.

Here is the gracious paradox: the blood of Jesus upon us is not our downfall, but our redemption. What is spoken blindly becomes, by grace, our healing.

We are recipients of salvation even in our ignorance.

So let us no longer be careless in our scapegoating.
Let us take responsibility and blame when it is ours.
Let us allow the blood of Jesus to rest upon our lives—not as condemnation, but as mercy that redeems what we would rather deny.

Let us acknowledge that we, too, have participated in the brokenness that led to the cross—through our hidden sins, our half-truths, our grasping for control. And instead of blaming, let us receive.

It is a challenging concept to understand that our condemnation of Christ is God’s final and triumphant act of love on behalf of all humanity.

The cross invites us into honest conviction, which leads us to redemption. Even when we resist taking the blame, Jesus bears it for us.

This is love.

We can understand someone dying for a person worth dying for, and we can understand how someone good and noble could inspire us to selfless sacrifice. But God put his love on the line for us by offering his Son in sacrificial death while we were of no use whatever to him.

Romans 5:7-8 (MSG)