“It was now about the sixth hour, and there was darkness over the whole land until the ninth hour, while the sun’s light failed. And the curtain in the temple was torn two. Then Jesus, calling out with a loud voice, said, “Father, into your hands I commit my spirit!” And having said this, he breathed his last.” Luke 23:44-46
“And Jesus cried out again with a loud voice and yielded up his spirit. And behold, the curtain of the temple was torn in two, from top to bottom. And the earth shook, and the rocks were split. The tombs also were opened. And many bodies of the saints who had fallen asleep were raised.” Matthew 27:50-52
I spent a good part of today lost in a new book, a new story. One theme was the corruptible natural of man — even a good one — when lured by the possibility of absolute power.
Tonight, one of the things about God’s nature that I love is his incorruptibility — that he was tempted, yet was without sin. As tonight’s hymns reflect, we can rejoice that he alone is king, the matchless king throughout all eternity because his goodness can never be altered by absolute power.
I hear the Savior say,
“Thy strength indeed is small;
Child of weakness, watch and pray,
Find in Me thine all in all.”
Refrain:
Jesus paid it all,
All to Him I owe;
Sin had left a crimson stain,
He washed it white as snow. — Evelina M. Hall
Crown Him with many crowns,
The Lamb upon His throne;
Hark! How the heav’nly anthem drowns
All music but its own!
Awake, my soul and sing
Of Him Who died for thee,
And hail Him as thy matchless King
Through all eternity.
Crown Him the Lord of love!
Behold His hands and side—
Rich wounds, yet visible above,
In beauty glorified.
No angel in the sky
Can fully bear that sight,
But downward bends His wond’ring eye
At mysteries so bright.
Crown Him the Lord of life!
Who triumphed o’er the grave,
Who rose victorious in the strife
For those He came to save.
His glories now we sing,
Who died, and rose on high,
Who died eternal life to bring,
And lives that death may die.
Crown Him the Lord of heav’n!
One with the Father known,
One with the Spirit through Him giv’n
From yonder glorious throne,
To Thee be endless praise,
For Thou for us hast died;
Be Thou, O Lord, through endless days
Adored and magnified. — Matthew Bridges
Rejoice, the Lord is King!
Your Lord and King adore;
Rejoice, give thanks, and sing,
And triumph evermore;
Lift up your heart, lift up your voice;
Rejoice, again I say, rejoice!
Jesus, the Savior, reigns,
The God of truth and love;
When He had purged our stains
He took His seat above;
Lift up your heart, lift up your voice;
Rejoice, again I say, rejoice!
His kingdom cannot fail,
He rules o’er earth and Heav’n,
The keys of death and hell
Are to our Jesus giv’n;
Lift up your heart, lift up your voice;
Rejoice, again I say, rejoice!
Rejoice in glorious hope!
Jesus the Judge shall come,
And take His servants up
To their eternal home;
We soon shall hear th’ archangel’s voice;
The trump of God shall sound, rejoice! — Charles Wesley
I love being amazed. Amazed at mountain grandeur, fiery sunsets, and breath-taking images from space. I revel in the majesty of creation and take joy from its beauty.
How much more will I be amazed at the grandeur, glory, and beautiful glory of the Creator when I stand in his presence? How much more can I now revel in the joy that His love for me never ends? The Creator of the mountains calls me friend. The Creator of the sunset calls me beloved child. The Creator of a supernova died for me and yet is with me always.
Mountains can be explained. So can sunsets and supernovas. Amazing grace. Amazing love. How can it be? Because He is.
And can it be that I should gainAn int’rest in the Savior’s blood?Died He for me, who caused His pain—For me, who Him to death pursued?Amazing love! How can it be,That Thou, my God, shouldst die for me?
Refrain:
Amazing love! How can it be,
That Thou, my God, shouldst die for me?
’Tis myst’ry all: th’ Immortal dies:Who can explore His strange design?In vain the firstborn seraph triesTo sound the depths of love divine.’Tis mercy all! Let earth adore,Let angel minds inquire no more.
He left His Father’s throne above—So free, so infinite His grace—Emptied Himself of all but love,And bled for Adam’s helpless race:’Tis mercy all, immense and free,For, O my God, it found out me!
Long my imprisoned spirit lay,Fast bound in sin and nature’s night;Thine eye diffused a quick’ning ray—I woke, the dungeon flamed with light;My chains fell off, my heart was free,I rose, went forth, and followed Thee.
No condemnation now I dread;Jesus, and all in Him, is mine;Alive in Him, my living Head,And clothed in righteousness divine,Bold I approach th’ eternal throne,And claim the crown, through Christ my own.
This past week was Valentine’s Day. Hard to miss, with all the pink, red, balloons, flowers, candy, stuffed animals, fancy dinners… and that was just Facebook. Love was definitely in the air and to be celebrated.
I’ll admit, I did have some awkward moments, a sort of sense of failure really, when I walked past the displays in the stores, realizing that none of the tokens of love would be given to me.
Valentine’s evening, however, brought a greater token of love. I found myself sitting at a table with friends, talking about the meaning of 1 John 4:10:
“This is love: not that we loved God, but that he loved us and sent his Son as an atoning sacrifice for our sins.”
Atoning — to make reparation or supply satisfaction
Sacrifice — the act of offering to a deity something precious; destruction or surrender of something for the sake of something else
Jesus was the precious offering. He supplied reparation, not for his sins, but mine.
“Your guilt is taken away, and your sin atoned for.” Isaiah 6:7
All else, no matter how great and wonderful, are trifles compared to the love of God for me. That verse, like so many, is a token to imprint on my heart the realization of God’s love.
When I survey the wondrous cross
On which the Prince of glory died,
My richest gain I count but loss,
And pour contempt on all my pride.
Forbid it, Lord, that I should boast,
Save in the death of Christ my God!
All the vain things that charm me most,
I sacrifice them to His blood.
See from His head, His hands, His feet,
Sorrow and love flow mingled down!
Did e’er such love and sorrow meet,
Or thorns compose so rich a crown?
Were the whole realm of nature mine,
That were a present far too small;
Love so amazing, so divine,
Demands my soul, my life, my all… (Isaac Watts)
In the cross, in the cross,
Be my glory ever;
Till my raptured soul shall find
Rest beyond the river. (Frances J. Crosby)
