O Sacred Head Now Wounded...
In preparing our hearts for Easter this Palm Sunday, and because we were observing the Lord's Supper, we sang some very moving hymns about the death of Christ this morning, including O Sacred Head Now Wounded. It apparently had been a long time since I had sung this one, as I barely remembered the words of the last verse:
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 to thee.
The first line captured my often felt inability to express the gratitude felt for such a gift as was given in his sacrifice, but it was the last line that stopped me cold. That line pierced my heart like a sword, my eyes filled with tears as my voice cracked. During the sermon I had been reminded of the lyrics of another song, My Eyes Are Dry, by Keith Green:
My eyes are dry
My faith is old
My heart is hard
My prayers are cold
And I know how I ought to be
Alive to you and dead to me
But what can be done
For an old heart like mine
Soften it up
With oil and wine
The oil is you, your spirit of love
Please wash me anew
With the wine of your blood
On this Holy Week and beyond, my prayer is to remember my first love and all he has done for me. In another sermon I was reminded of this truth: the only thing Jesus was without was us when he chose to leave the splendor of heaven and come to this dry, hard earth to walk the long path to Calvary. Out of his great love, he glorified the Father while making a way for us to be children of God. May I never, never outlive my love for him.