O sacred Head now wounded, with grief and shame weighed down
Now scornfully surrounded with thorns Thine only crown
How art Thou pale with anguish with sore abuse and scorn
Now scornfully surrounded with thorns Thine only crown
How art Thou pale with anguish with sore abuse and scorn
How does that visage languish which once was bright as morn
What Thou my Lord hast suffered was all for sinners' gain
Mine, mine was the transgression, but Thine the deadly pain
Lo here I fall my Savior, 'tis I deserve Thy place
Look on me with Thy favor, vouchsafe to me Thy grace
What language shall I borrow to thank Thee dearest friend
For this Thy dying sorrow, Thy pity without end
O make me Thine forever and should I fainting be
Lord, let me never, never outlive my love for Thee
As Good Friday approaches, I am reminded of this hymn I grew up singing every year. There are more verses, but these first three always hit my heart the deepest. It's rarely sung anymore. The old 12th century Latin translated into King James English, and set to somber Bach music, is foreign to modern ears. If you've never heard it YouTube it. It's moving in its worshipful remembrance of Jesus' death on the cross for sinners such as me.
I have found myself as I age feeling a greater need to be near the Lord. The sense of my mortality is pressing in on me. David asked God to teach him to number his days. He, too, had a growing awareness of his limited time on earth and the closer he was coming to seeing God face-to-face. I look back with a degree of sorrow for wasted opportunities, wasted years of dissipation, and needless self-inflicted pain and sorrow that sidelined me when I should have been about my Father's work. But I cannot change a single day of my past as much as I long to have a redo. My past is indeed written in concrete.
But the present and future are wide open for opportunities to write a life worthy of the high calling. There is joy, wonder, and thankfulness that the blood of Jesus covers my sins and failures. But I want the days I have left to be worthy of Jesus' sacrifice for me. I won't be perfect, no one can make that claim. I may be weary some days from circumstances, but my heart and actions can reflect a Christlikeness that comes from the deepest parts of my very being joined in relationship with the Lord. It's grace that makes this possible.
Lo here I fall my Savior, 'tis I deserve Thy place
Look on me with Thy favor, vouchsafe to me Thy grace
O make me Thine forever and should I fainting be
Lord, let me never, never outlive my love for Thee
