Old World Cross I
Zeitz, Mary Beth

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.

Forbid it, Lord, that I should boast,
save in the death of Christ, my God;
all the vain things that charm me most,
I sacrifice them to his blood.

See, from his head, his hands, his feet,
sorrow and love flow mingled down.
Did e’er such love and sorrow meet,
or thorns compose so rich a crown.

Were the whole realm of nature mine,
that were an offering far too small;
love so amazing, so divine,
demands my soul, my life, my all.
Words by Isaac Watts
Music by Lowell Mason

This hymn may be my favorite of all the hymns about the cross of Christ.

What if it were True? What if the God of the Universe really did become man, live among us, endure the pain of living and even the pain of death, an ignominious tortured death on a cross? What if He did it for the sake of love, love for His very torturers? Would it not demand your soul, your life, your all?