“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.”
Thank you, Isaac Watts, for these words that reach across 300 years of time to reach us as we struggle to grasp the enormity of the sacrifice of Christ. Think of it. God Himself, absorbing for all time the evil in the world, the evil in us. He was rejected by His Father that we might be accepted. He was torn that we might be healed. He was made sin for us that we might be made righteous. He became a curse for us that we might receive the blessing of the Holy Spirit. He died that we might live. What can we say to this kind of love?
“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!”
