Cheri and I both will never forget our very first Good Friday worship at Redeemer. It was April 25th, 2005. You boldly stood forth, and with empowered divine imagery, you painted a picture of our justification by the horrific bloody sacrifice of the perfect Lamb. You spoke of the thousands of dumb sheep being led to the altar of sacrifice. By the time all of the lambs and other animals had been sacrificed, the high priest robes would be completely stained, red with the blood of the imperfect sacrifice. Yet as God’s Perfect Lamb, He was led to the slaughter, to be bruised (temporary afflicted, but raised to perfection!) for our sins. And His precious shed blood would complete, taking away forever, the need for any additional sacrifice. He took the penalty of our debts, He bore our grief, He carried away our sorrows, He bore them all that we would have His Joy, His Peace and share His Glory and eternity with HIM!
Calvary Love From The Valley of Vision (pp. 76-77), Christ was all anguish that I might be all joy,
cast off that I might be brought in,
trodden down as an enemy that I might be welcomed as a friend,
surrendered to hell’s worst that I might attain heaven’s best,
stripped that I might be clothed,
wounded that I might be healed,
athirst that I might drink,
tormented that I might be comforted,
made a shame that I might inherit glory,
entered darkness that I might have eternal light.
My Saviour wept that all tears might be wiped from my eyes,
groaned that I might have endless song,
endured all pain that I might have unfading health,
bore a thorny crown that I might have a glory-diadem,
bowed his head that I might uplift mine,
experienced reproach that I might receive welcome,
closed his eyes in death that I might gaze on unclouded brightness,
expired that I might for ever live.
O Father, who spared not thine only Son that thou mightest spare me, All this transfer thy love designed and accomplished; Help me to adore thee by lips and life. O that my every breath might be ecstatic praise, my every step buoyant with delight. . .
The Great Exchange John Flavel: Lord, the condemnation was yours, that the justification might be mine.
The agony was yours, that the victory might be mine.
The pain was yours, and the ease mine.
The stripes were yours, and the healing balm issuing from them mine.
The vinegar and gall were yours, that the honey and sweet might be mine.
The curse was yours, that the blessing might be mine.
The crown of thorns was yours, that the crown of glory might be mine.
The death was yours, the life purchased by it mine.
You paid the price that I might enjoy the inheritance. John Flavel (1671), from his sermon, "The Solemn Consecration of the Mediator," in The Fountain of Life Opened Up: or, A Display of Christ in His Essential and Mediatorial Glory.
2 comments:
Cheri and I both will never forget our very first Good Friday worship at Redeemer. It was April 25th, 2005. You boldly stood forth, and with empowered divine imagery, you painted a picture of our justification by the horrific bloody sacrifice of the perfect Lamb. You spoke of the thousands of dumb sheep being led to the altar of sacrifice. By the time all of the lambs and other animals had been sacrificed, the high priest robes would be completely stained, red with the blood of the imperfect sacrifice. Yet as God’s Perfect Lamb, He was led to the slaughter, to be bruised (temporary afflicted, but raised to perfection!) for our sins. And His precious shed blood would complete, taking away forever, the need for any additional sacrifice. He took the penalty of our debts, He bore our grief, He carried away our sorrows, He bore them all that we would have His Joy, His Peace and share His Glory and eternity with HIM!
From the Between Two Worlds Blog
Calvary Love
From The Valley of Vision (pp. 76-77),
Christ was all anguish
that I might be all joy,
cast off
that I might be brought in,
trodden down as an enemy
that I might be welcomed as a friend,
surrendered to hell’s worst
that I might attain heaven’s best,
stripped
that I might be clothed,
wounded
that I might be healed,
athirst
that I might drink,
tormented
that I might be comforted,
made a shame
that I might inherit glory,
entered darkness
that I might have eternal light.
My Saviour wept
that all tears might be wiped from my eyes,
groaned
that I might have endless song,
endured all pain
that I might have unfading health,
bore a thorny crown
that I might have a glory-diadem,
bowed his head
that I might uplift mine,
experienced reproach
that I might receive welcome,
closed his eyes in death
that I might gaze on unclouded brightness,
expired
that I might for ever live.
O Father, who spared not thine only Son that thou mightest spare me,
All this transfer thy love designed and accomplished;
Help me to adore thee by lips and life.
O that my every breath might be ecstatic praise, my every step buoyant with delight. . .
The Great Exchange
John Flavel:
Lord, the condemnation was yours,
that the justification might be mine.
The agony was yours,
that the victory might be mine.
The pain was yours,
and the ease mine.
The stripes were yours,
and the healing balm issuing from them mine.
The vinegar and gall were yours,
that the honey and sweet might be mine.
The curse was yours,
that the blessing might be mine.
The crown of thorns was yours,
that the crown of glory might be mine.
The death was yours,
the life purchased by it mine.
You paid the price
that I might enjoy the inheritance.
John Flavel (1671), from his sermon, "The Solemn Consecration of the Mediator," in The Fountain of Life Opened Up: or, A Display of Christ in His Essential and Mediatorial Glory.
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