Psalm 69:1-4, 6-21
Let us read a selection of verses from the sixty-ninth Psalm, in which David was led to set forth the Redeemer’s sufferings before and upon the cross.
Sorrows, deep, abounding, deadly, had penetrated his inner nature. Bodily anguish is not his first complaint; he begins not with the gall which embittered his lips, but with the mighty griefs which broke into his heart.
His sufferings were unlike all others in degree, the waters were such as soaked into the soul; the mire was the mire of the abyss itself, and the floods were deep and overflowing.
Long pleading, with awful fervour, had scorched his throat as with flames of fire:
It may be truly said that he restores what he took not away; for he gives back to the injured honour of God a recompense, and to man his lost happiness, though the insult of the one and the fall of the other, were neither of them, in any sense, his doings.
Our blessed Lord ever had a tender concern for his people, and would not have his own oppression of spirit become a source of discouragement to them.
They first covered our Lord with a veil of opprobrious accusation, and then hurried him away to be crucified. They passed him through the trial of cruel mockings, besmeared his face with spittle, and covered it with bruises, so that Pilate’s “Ecce Homo” called the world’s attention to an unexampled spectacle of woe and shame. Ah, blessed Lord, it was our shame which thou wast made to bear! Nothing more deserves to be reproached and despised than sin, and lo, when thou wast made sin for us, thou wast called to endure abuse and scorn. Blessed be thy name, it is over now, but we owe thee more than heart can conceive for thine amazing stoop of love.
What amazing sin that he whom seraphs worship with veiled faces, should be a scornful proverb among the most abandoned of men.
our Lord died of a broken heart, and reproach had done the deed
the heaviness of our Lord in the garden is expressed by many and forcible words in the four gospels, and each term goes to show that the agony was beyond measure great
A criminal’s draught was offered to our innocent Lord, a bitter portion to our dying Master. Sorry entertainment had earth for her King.
Behold the Man! by all condemn’d,
Assaulted by a host of foes;
His person and his claims contemn’d,
A man of sufferings and woes.
Behold the Man! he stands alone,
His foes are ready to devour;
Not one of all his friends will own
Their Master in this trying hour.
Behold the Man! though scorn’d below,
He bears the greatest name above;
The angels at his footstool bow,
And all his royal claims approve.
My heart dissolves to see thee bleed.
This heart so hard before;
I hear thee for the guilty plead,
And grief o’erflows the more.
‘Twas for the sinful thou didst die,
And I a sinner stand:
What love speaks from thy dying eye,
And from each piercèd hand!
I know this cleansing blood of thine
Was shed, dear Lord, for me,—
For me, for all—oh, grace divine!—
Who look by faith on thee.
‘Tis finish’d! all the debt is paid;
Justice divine is satisfied;
The grand and full atonement made;
God for his people’s guilt hath died.
Saved from the legal curse I am,
My Saviour hangs on yonder tree:
See there the meek expiring Lamb!
‘Tis finish’d! He expired for me!
Accepted in the Well-Beloved,
And clothed in righteousness divine,
I see the bar to heaven removed,
For all thy merits, Lord, are mine.
Here lies of life th’ immortal Prince,
Under arrest for all our sins;
Prisoner of death, and silent here
He lies till the third morn appear.
My faith with joy and wonder sees,
Jesus, thy sacred obsequies;
A burial which has power to save
From death, a burial of the grave!
Oh, that I now my wish might have,
And sink into my Saviour’s grave;
Then with my Head triumphant rise,
And wear his glories in the skies.
‘Twas not the insulting voice of scorn
So deeply wrung his heart;
The piercing nail, the pointed thorn,
Caused not the saddest smart:
But every struggling sigh betray’d
A heavier grief within,
How on his burden’d soul was laid
The weight of human sin.
O thou who hast vouchsafed to bear
Our sins’ oppressive load,
Grant us thy righteousness to wear,
And lead us to our God.
The enormous load of human guilt
Was on my Saviour laid;
With woes as with a garment, he
For sinners was array’d.
And in the horrid pangs of death
He wept, he pray’d for me;
Loved and embraced my guilty soul
When nailèd to the tree.
Oh, love amazing! love beyond
The reach of human tongue;
Love which shall be the subject of
An everlasting song.
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