Gospel

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His hands and feet were pierced by cruel nails
Fastened to a Cross;
Pain throbbed in every part;
His heart bleeding gently for those whom He knew
Were destined for Hell.
"Father forgive them," He cried
His love for them plain in His eyes.
His, not the hopeless grief for our sin
There was hope with this God-man
There yet would be peace
'Twixt God and His man.
He stayed for the ransom of every heart.
The thief who hung next,
Admitted his faith in Jesus, the Christ,
Who said to Him there:
"I tell you the truth
Today you will be with Me, in Paradise."

For love of my soul
Christ bore all my sin
This mystery deepens His purpose so dear,
So that men in their wisdom,
Can't see why 'tis so,
That God would plan His dear Son to endure,
The pains of a criminal:
Alone on a Tree.

The man and the woman standing so near
Their eyes that were dimmed by many a tear
He called to them gently:
"Mother, behold your Son!"
Providing for loved ones who truly were dear
"Behold she's your 'mother',"
Protect and provide for her, that's her great need
Jesus heart in its pain thought nothing of self
But all for the needs of those nearest and dear.

Then out of the mist of the view from the Cross,
Jesus cried out in terrible thirst.
They gave Him some mocking, horrible brew,
And told Him that He was accursed.
"My God, My God, why have You forsaken Me,"
Came the torn cry
From lips, dry and cracked.
His aloneness borne hardly, His heart torn'in two'
As my sin and yours He bore in Himself;
And suffered the cost
Of His Father's abandonment there.
He'd never been 'cut' by His Father like this.
Always He'd talked to Him, coimmuned with Him thus;
Committed His life, His ministry,...us.
A darkness hung o'er His soul there, and then,
As grief poured itself out in waves like the sea,
Jesus head bowed in agony fresh,
His skin damp with the dew that was blood.
Was there no other way for Redemption to work,
This plan He did have since eternity past?
Pain, grief and loneliness all played their part
To make this Hour the darkest of all,
In the battle for souls,
Your soul and mine.

There never was doubt, the victor turned out:
Jesus, my Saviour, of His joy there's no doubt.
His triumph was mighty, His banners held high
In the spiritual battle the stakes were too high
For defeat to be borne;
The victor: Creator and Lord!
His enemies vanquished, beaten and banished,
No victory for them in my soul.
"It is finished," He cried,
Of the plan He had cut and had dried.
There's no more to do,
It is done!

The mist in His eyes and pain in His heart,
Were the suffering sore of the Man who'd hung there,
And fought a great battle for the souls of all Man;
A Battle, fought and then won
By the divine nature of Jesus, our Lord.
"Father, into your hands I commit my spirit."
He was ready to go from this scene of the play.
His job He had finished,
All prophecy fulfilled;
His desire, now burning, to be on His way Home.

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