"O cross that liftest up my head, I dare not ask to hide from thee."

"O cross that liftest up my head, I dare not ask to hide from thee."

Hymn: “O Love That Will Not Let Me Go” – George Matheson (1842-1906)
Typical Tune: ST. MARGARET

I have a running joke with Cynthia Clawson and Ragan Courtney about this hymn because, while singing for our wedding, she forgot the words. It’s a long story… but she cannot deny it: I have it on video!

This is great poem… hymn. I will return to it again in these posts, but this last stanza speaks to us particularly during the Lenten season when possibly too often we go about with downcast eyes… too concerned with our return-to-ashes state. It may be time to “Lift thine eyes, O lift thine eyes” to see the ever-present symbol of the crucifixion just ahead.

It is almost an oxymoron that an event which calls us to turn our face away in horror or bow in grave reverence and appreciation might also be a time in which our heads are lifted to remind us of what happened there. It is as if a kind, gentle, nail-scarred hand touches the chin and raises the lowered visage to once again come face to face with the realities of suffering and shame.

This is not one of those easily-comprehended hymnlines. We could spend some time here pulling the possibilities from the few words given. For me, every time I sing or hear this stanza, I am reminded that I should not be ashamed to be connected to the One died there. At the same time, it calls me not to shirk my commitment to the One whose love will not release me from its grasp.

With my face lifted by the realities of the cross, I wouldn’t dare request “a pass” on the suffering which might come my way; there is no way I would stand around the corner and peek at the anguish, distress or humiliation which might be my lot after having taken up the cross and following the Savior of humankind.

Need a face-lift? Allow the cross the privilege of giving you one!


Hear All Four Stanzas Sung in This Setting

"My sin, not in part, but the whole is nailed to the cross, and I bear it no more."

"My sin, not in part, but the whole is nailed to the cross, and I bear it no more."
Hymn: “It Is Well with My Soul” – Horatio Spafford (1828-188)
Tune: VILLE DU HAVRE

This is a favorite hymn of many… including my wife, Carlita; and it is way up on my list. When I was at Southwestern Seminary and they still sang hymns in chapel, they did a survey of favorite hymns of students, placing this one at the top just above “To God Be the Glory” and (of course) “Amazing Grace”!

Sadly, this is the stanza (the to-be-most-pitied third) often skipped over when one is jettisoned for time purposes in worship-planning. I say “sadly” because after the flowing of peaceful rivers, sorrows rolling like sea-billows, Satan buffeting, and the coming of great trials, THIS stanza tells why it is well with my soul.

Some hymnlines I just can’t sing aloud; I get choked up, teared up… and I just mouth the text. This is one of those. Spafford has worded for me what I could not say on my own: all my sin – not just part, but the whole of it – has been nailed to the cross along with my Redeemer. As one who has trouble letting go, this line reminds me that I can release it; I no longer have to shoulder my transgressions. Sometimes when I am given opportunity to sing this stanza, I gather my wits and am able to phonate by “Praise the Lord, O my soul!”

During the Lenten season or at a weekend retreat, some of us are given the opportunity to scribble some iniquity on a 3” x 5” card and symbolically lay it at the foot of the cross… or even tack it a wooden facsimile. It’s a nice little exercise, but it can only be fully understood if you bring at least three packages of cards with you! It’s that “sin, not in part, but the whole” that completes the imagery.

I’m a Kenny Chesney fan. Sorry, musical-snob friends, it’s true! He has a great song called “There Goes My Life.” You can Google it later. However, each time you see a cross on display, smile a little bit and say with all kinds of sincere confidence, “There goes my sin… all of it.”


Choral Arrangement of This Hymn (counter #315)

"In the cross of Christ I glory, tow'ring o'er the wrecks of time."

"Cross of Rubble" - Ray Tapajna

"In the cross of Christ I glory, tow'ring o'er the wrecks of time."
Hymn: “In the Cross of Christ I Glory” – John Bowring (1792-1872)
Typical Tune: RATHBUN (also OXFORD/STAINER)

What does this word “glory” mean as it opens this hymn? At the time Bowring wrote these words, it meant “to boast.” Now, I know we are told since the Cradle Roll class that we should never boast or brag, but this bold statement has a precedent.

In Paul’s letter to the church at Galatia, he said, “May I never boast except in the cross of our Lord Jesus Christ, through which the world has been crucified to me.” (6:14) Newer versions actually use the word “brag”!

Some grandparents carry with them what they refer to as their “brag book.” It’s nothing more than a photo album of their grandchildren looking all bright, clever and achieving! We’re fine with that… we’ve come to expect it! Most of my friends are doing this via their i-phones!

We have only one area of life in which we can boast without shame: the redeeming act of Christ on the cross. Outside that, we become braggarts or annoyingly self-centered!

The ravages of sin-filled time have left wreckage in their path. Dismantled lives, dysfunctional families, dismembered countries, disoriented cultures… and the dis-es go on! Yet, high above all this carnage stands the Old Rugged Cross. And in that cross, it’s okay to take some pride… to rejoice in the victory… even to boast or brag. So have at it!

Hear this hymn played at the piano

"Days of darkness still come o'er me, sorrows path I often tread."

Hymn: “I Will Sing the Wondrous Story” – Francis H. Rowley (1854-1952)
Common Tunes: WONDROUS STORY, HYFRYDOL

Lenten days are by nature dark days. There is less joy wound into our worship; we are focused more on the suffering Christ than on the living/healing/teaching Lord. And we’re supposed to refrain from singing ‘hallelujah’ during the Sundays that link together these forty days. So this hymnline seems appropriate, don’t you think?

Growing up, singing this text at a breakneck speed to the WONDROUS STORY tune, the words didn’t seem to match the rollicking, dotted-rhythm melody. All the talk of lostness, being bruised and faint, blindness and possession by fear: those seemed to be ‘downers’ to me!

In spite of my faith walk, days of darkness still come o’er me and sorrow’s path I often tread. Following after Christ does not grant immunity from the common struggles of life… despite what you may have heard from a television preacher recently. In fact, sometimes the darknesses seem even darker, and the sorrows feel deeper. But like this hymnline, we face those with a profound sense of hope that joy will come in the morning! The line continues with “but the Savior still is with me, by his hand I’m safely led.”

In our days of darkness and sorrow, we are not alone! No, never alone.

Let’s not let these cross-anticipating days to drag us down. Let’s focus on the sacrifice made at Calvary, but let us not lose sight of the hope that lies just three days beyond Lent. And may our dark days – whether in Lent or any other season – be survivable because we are not alone: the Savior still is with us, by his hand we’re safely led.

Hear Sandi Patty sing this text to a fresh tune

"Near the cross, O Lamb of God, bring its scenes before me."

"Near the cross, O Lamb of God, bring its scenes before me."

Hymn: “Jesus, Keep Me Near the Cross” – Fanny Crosby (1820-1915)
Tune: NEAR THE CROSS

It is difficult for most of us to think on the extreme suffering of Christ during those last hours – the scourgings, the pressing down of the thorns into his forehead, the struggling through the streets of Jerusalem beneath the cross-bar, the nailing of his hands and feet to the cross, the piercing of his side, his final breath. Just typing those phrases was not a pleasant experience.

I remember when Mel Gibson’s THE PASSION OF THE CHRIST hit the screens, many fine Christians refused to go because it was so gruesome; they did not want to see such a graphic reenactment. The church I served at the time in Chapel Hill rented the theater across the street, watched it together, and came back to the church for the pastor to unpack it for us.

Everything about the faith-life doesn’t need to be pleasant. I certainly did not “enjoy” that film, but my understanding of the suffering Servant was strengthened by the experience.

This third stanza (often skipped in congregational singing) is the only one in which Fanny Crosby addresses Christ directly; it is in fact a brief prayer:
    Near the cross, O Lamb of God, bring its scenes before me.
    Help me walk from day to day with its shadow o’er me.

In our process of understanding the cross-event, it is necessary that we not look away… that we not turn our eyes away from Jesus. With Miss Crosby, we need to ask that the scene be played over and over in our mind’s eye. This act of replaying might well help us walk more closely to our Savior, as the beautiful awfulness of the cross casts an eternal shadow across our earthly pathway.

Hear This Hymn Sung in Worship