Category Archives: Passiontide

Holy Week Hymnody: At the Cross of Jesus


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AT THE CROSS OF JESUS

A remarkable five-part hymn by Edward Monro: “The Story of the Cross”(1864).

[From Anthony Esolen, Touchstone Journal]:

The first part is The Question:

 

See Him in raiment rent,

With His blood dyed:

Women walk sorrowing

By His side.

Heavy that Cross to Him,

Weary the weight:

One who will help Him stands

At the gate.

Multitudes hurrying

Pass on the road:

Simon is sharing with

Him the load.

Who is this traveling

With the curst tree—

This weary prisoner—

Who is He?

The second part is The Answer:

 

Follow to Calvary,

Tread where He trod;

This is the Lord of life—

Son of God.

Is there no loveliness—

You who pass by—

In that lone Figure which

Marks the sky?

You who would love Him, stand,

Gaze at His face;

Tarry awhile in your

Worldly race.

As the swift moments fly

Through the blest week,

Jesus, in penitence,

Let us seek.

 

In the third part of the poem, we address the Lord personally:

 

On the Cross lifted up,

Thy face I scan,

Scarred by that agony—

Son of Man.

Thorns form Thy diadem,

Rough wood Thy throne,

To Thee Thy outstretched arms

Draw Thine own.

Nails hold Thy hands and feet,

While on Thy breast

Sinketh Thy bleeding head

Sore opprest.

Loud is Thy bitter cry,

Rending the night,

As to Thy darkened eyes

Fails the light.

Shadows of midnight fall,

Though it is day;

Friends and disciples stand

Far away.

Loud scoffs the dying thief,

Mocking Thy woe;

Can this my Savior be

Brought so low?

Yes, see the title clear,

Written above,

‘Jesus of Nazareth’—

Name of love!

What, O my Savior dear,

What didst Thou see,

That made Thee suffer and

Die for me?

In the fourth part the Lord responds:

 

Child of my grief and pain!

From realms above,

I came to lead thee to

Life and love.

For thee my blood I shed,

For thee I died;

Safe in thy faithfulness

Now abide.

I saw thee wandering,

Weak and at strife;

I am the Way for thee,

Truth and Life.

Follow my path of pain,

Tread where I trod:

This is the way of peace

Up to God.

So in the final part of the poem, the speaker replies to Jesus with eager love:

 

O I will follow Thee,

Star of my soul!

Through the great dark I press

To the goal.

Yea, let me know Thy grief,

Carry Thy cross,

Share in Thy sacrifice,

Gain Thy loss.

Daily I’ll prove my love

Through joy and woe;

Where Thy hands point the way,

There I go.

Lead me on year by year,

Safe to the end,

Jesus, my Lord, my Life,

King and Friend.

esolenanthony

Anthony Esolen is Professor of English at Providence College in Providence, Rhode Island, and the author of The Ironies of Faith (ISI Books), The Politically Incorrect Guide to Western Civilization (Regency), and Ten Ways to Destroy the Imagination of Your Child (ISI Books).  He has also translated Tasso’s Gerusalemme liberata (Johns Hopkins Press) and Dante’s The Divine Comedy (Random House). He is a senior editor of Touchstone Journal.

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What Is the Gospel?

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Dear Readers,

For your Lenten meditation, I offer a clear, concise, yet deeply theological sermon on “What Is the Gospel?” by Fr. Eric Dudley.

Coram Deo,

Margot

 

FrDudley2011

Fr. Eric Dudley is a native of South Carolina, has been married to Belinda for twenty-five years, and together they have three children: Katharine, Christopher, and Margaret.

Fr. Dudley received his B.A. from Wofford College in South Carolina, an M.Div. from Vanderbilt University, an S.T.M. from Yale University, and is in the process of a D.Min. from the University of the South.

Having served parishes in upstate South Carolina for nine years, he came to Florida in 1995 as rector of St. John’s Episcopal Church.  In October of 2005, Fr. Dudley left the Episcopal Church to create St. Peter’s Anglican Church.

Fr. Dudley enjoys reading (especially Church history, biographies, and the novels of Trollope, Maugham, and P. D. James), gardening, biking, playing cards, and time with his family.

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A Good Friday Meditation: O Sacred Head, Now Wounded

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Dear Readers,

I encourage you to listen to the entire recording of J. S. Bach’s Matthew Passion.  

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Bach’s St. Matthew Passion

Within the recording you will hear the tune of the hymn that we know as “O Sacred Head, Now Wounded.”  

 

O Sacred Head Now Wounded: Hymnal 1982

“O Sacred Head Now Wounded” Wikipedia

Text from Hymnal 1982:

1. O sacred head, sore wounded,
defiled and put to scorn;
O kingly head, surrounded
with mocking crown of thorn:
What sorrow mars thy grandeur?
Can death thy bloom deflower?
O countenance whose splendor
the hosts of heaven adore!

2. Thy beauty, long-desired,
hath vanished from our sight;
thy power is all expired,
and quenched the light of light.
Ah me! for whom thou diest,
hide not so far thy grace:
show me, O Love most highest,
the brightness of thy face.

3. In thy most bitter passion
my heart to share doth cry,
with thee for my salvation
upon the cross to die.
Ah, keep my heart thus moved
to stand thy cross beneath,
to mourn thee, well-beloved,
yet thank thee for thy death.

4. What language shall I borrow
to thank thee, dearest friend,
for this thy dying sorrow,
thy pity without end?
Oh, make me thine for ever!
and should I fainting be,
Lord, let me never,never,
outlive my love for thee.

5. My days are few, O fail not,
with thine immortal power,
to hold me that I quail not
in death’s most fearful hour;
that I may fight befriended,
and see in my last strife
to me thine arms extended
upon the cross of life.

Text Information
First Line: O sacred head, sore wounded
Author: Paul Gerhardt, 1607-1676
Translator (sts. 1-3, 5): Robert Seymour Bridges, 1844-1930
Translater (st. 4): James Waddell Alexander, 1804-1859
Publication Date: 1982
Meter: 76. 76. D
Language: English

Tune Information
Name: HERZLICH TUT MICH VERLANGEN (PASSION CHORALE)
Composer: Hans Leo Hassler, 1564-1612
Adapter and Harmonizer: Johann Sebastian Bach, 1685-1750
Meter: 76. 76. D
Key: a minor or modal

Lyrics (J.W. Alexander’s version, 1830)

O sacred Head, now wounded, with grief and shame weighed down,
Now scornfully surrounded with thorns, Thine only crown;
How pale Thou art with anguish, with sore abuse and scorn!
How does that visage languish, which once was bright as morn!

What Thou, my Lord, hast suffered, was all for sinners’ gain;
Mine, mine was the transgression, but Thine the deadly pain.
Lo, here I fall, my Savior! ’Tis I deserve Thy place;
Look on me with Thy favor, vouchsafe to me Thy grace.

Men mock and taunt and jeer Thee, Thou noble countenance,
Though mighty worlds shall fear Thee and flee before Thy glance.
How art thou pale with anguish, with sore abuse and scorn!
How doth Thy visage languish that once was bright as morn!

Now from Thy cheeks has vanished their color once so fair;
From Thy red lips is banished the splendor that was there.
Grim death, with cruel rigor, hath robbed Thee of Thy life;
Thus Thou hast lost Thy vigor, Thy strength in this sad strife.

My burden in Thy Passion, Lord, Thou hast borne for me,
For it was my transgression which brought this woe on Thee.
I cast me down before Thee, wrath were my rightful lot;
Have mercy, I implore Thee; Redeemer, spurn me not!

What language shall I borrow to thank Thee, dearest friend,
For this Thy dying sorrow, Thy pity without end?
O make me Thine forever, and should I fainting be,
Lord, let me never, never outlive my love to Thee.

My Shepherd, now receive me; my Guardian, own me Thine.
Great blessings Thou didst give me, O source of gifts divine.
Thy lips have often fed me with words of truth and love;
Thy Spirit oft hath led me to heavenly joys above.

Here I will stand beside Thee, from Thee I will not part;
O Savior, do not chide me! When breaks Thy loving heart,
When soul and body languish in death’s cold, cruel grasp,
Then, in Thy deepest anguish, Thee in mine arms I’ll clasp.

The joy can never be spoken, above all joys beside,
When in Thy body broken I thus with safety hide.
O Lord of Life, desiring Thy glory now to see,
Beside Thy cross expiring, I’d breathe my soul to Thee.

My Savior, be Thou near me when death is at my door;
Then let Thy presence cheer me, forsake me nevermore!
When soul and body languish, oh, leave me not alone,
But take away mine anguish by virtue of Thine own!

Be Thou my consolation, my shield when I must die;
Remind me of Thy passion when my last hour draws nigh.
Mine eyes shall then behold Thee, upon Thy cross shall dwell,
My heart by faith enfolds Thee. Who dieth thus dies well.

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