The Resurrection and the Life

Following on from Good Friday, here’s another hymn from John Newton for Easter Sunday. This was published in the Olney Hymns, 1779, Bk. i., No. 116, under the title ‘The Resurrection and the Life’.

Notice the first three stanzas are set around by quotation marks, with Christ addressing the believer, to which the rest of the hymn then provides a response.

“I am,” says Christ, “your glorious Head,”

(May we attention give,)

“The Resurrection of the dead,

The life of all that live.

“By faith in me the soul receives

New life, though dead before;

And he that in my name believes,

Shall live to die no more.

“The sinner sleeping in his grave

Shall at my voice awake,

And when I once begin to save,

My work I’ll ne’er forsake.”

Fulfil thy promise, gracious Lord,

On us assembled here;

Put forth thy Spirit with the word,

And cause the dead to hear.

Preserve the power of faith alive

In those who love thy name;

For sin and Satan daily strive

To quench the sacred flame.

Thy power and mercy first prevailed

From death to set us free;

And often since our life had failed,

Had it not been in thee.

To thee we look, to thee we bow,

To thee for help we call;

Our Life and Resurrection thou,

Our Hope, our Joy, our All.

Looking at the Cross

For this year’s Good Friday, here’s one from John Newton.

This was published in the Olney Hymns, 1779, Bk. ii., No. 57, under the title ‘Looking at the Cross’.

In spite of it being one of his lesser-known hymns, it carries his trademarks. Note the preponderance of monosyllabic words and the theologically-informed piety.

In my home church back in the day, we sung it with a refrain after each verse:

O, can it be, upon a tree

The Saviour died for me?

My soul is thrilled, my heart is filled,

To think He died for me!

In evil long I took delight,

Unawed by shame or fear,

Till a new object struck my sight,

And stopped my wild career:

I saw One hanging on a Tree,

In agonies and blood,

Who fix’d His languid eyes on me,

As near His Cross I stood.

Sure never, till my latest breath,

Can I forget that look:

It seem’d to charge me with His death,

Though not a word He spoke:

My conscience felt and owned the guilt,

And plunged me in despair,

I saw my sins His blood had spilt,

And helped to nail Him there.

Alas! I knew not what I did!

But now my tears are vain;

Where shall my trembling soul be hid?

For I the Lord had slain!

A second look He gave, which said,

‘I freely all forgive;

This blood is for thy ransom paid;

I die, that thou may’st live.’

Thus, while His death my sin displays,

In all its blackest hue,

Such is the mystery of grace,

It seals my pardon too.

With pleasing grief, and mournful joy,

My spirit now is fill’d,

That I should such a life destroy,

Yet live by Him I kill’d.

Wounded for Me

For this year’s Good Friday...

The story goes that in the years following the First World War, William Gilbert Ovens (1870–1945) saw a wounded veteran limping past on the street and was impressed by the thought that, in a sense, the young man had taken that wound for him.

With those thoughts in mind, Ovens wrote a chorus, ‘Wounded for Me’, which provides the first stanza of the below hymn. Gladys Watkin Roberts (1888–1988) added four more stanzas to complete the picture of Jesus dying for me, risen for me, living for me, and coming for me.

Wounded for me, wounded for me,

There on the cross He was wounded for me;

Gone my transgressions, and now I am free,

All because Jesus was wounded for me.

Dying for me, dying for me,

There on the cross He was dying for me;

Now in His death my redemption I see,

All because Jesus was dying for me.

Risen for me, risen for me,

Up from the grave He has risen for me;

Now evermore from death’s sting I am free,

All because Jesus has risen for me.

Living for me, living for me,

Up in the skies He is living for me;

Daily He’s pleading and praying for me,

All because Jesus is living for me.

Coming for me, coming for me,

Soon in the air He is coming for me;

Then with what joy His dear face I shall see,

Oh, how I praise Him! He’s coming for me.

William G. Ovens (1870–1945) and Gladys W. Roberts (1888–1988)

Rebecca McLaughlin on Easter

Every month, The Good Book Company make available digital versions of one of their books at no charge. This month (March 2025) it’s Is Easter Unbelievable? Four Questions Everyone Should Ask about the Resurrection Story by Rebecca McLaughlin, a short but excellent exploration of the reality and significance of Jesus’ death and resurrection, which is available in exchange for an email address here.

Jesus Shall Reign

For this year’s Easter Sunday…

One of my favourite hymns (with more than the standard five or six stanzas we’re familiar with) from one of my favourite hymn writers (Isaac Watts), based on one of my favourite psalms (72).

Jesus shall reign where’er the sun

Does his successive journeys run;

His kingdom stretch from shore to shore,

Till moons shall wax and wane no more.

Behold the islands with their kings,

And Europe her best tribute brings;

From north to south the princes meet,

To pay their homage at His feet.

There Persia, glorious to behold,

There India shines in eastern gold;

And barb’rous nations at His word

Submit, and bow, and own their Lord.

To Him shall endless prayer be made,

And praises throng to crown His head;

His Name like sweet perfume shall rise

With every morning sacrifice.

People and realms of every tongue

Dwell on His love with sweetest song;

And infant voices shall proclaim

Their early blessings on His Name.

Blessings abound wherever He reigns;

The prisoner leaps to lose his chains;

The weary find eternal rest,

And all the sons of want are blessed.

Where He displays His healing power,

Death and the curse are known no more:

In Him the tribes of Adam boast

More blessings than their father lost.

Let every creature rise and bring

Peculiar honours to our King;

Angels descend with songs again,

And earth repeat the loud amen!

Great God, whose universal sway

The known and unknown worlds obey,

Now give the kingdom to Thy Son,

Extend His power, exalt His throne.

The sceptre well becomes His hands;

All Heav’n submits to His commands;

His justice shall avenge the poor,

And pride and rage prevail no more.

With power He vindicates the just,

And treads th’oppressor in the dust:

His worship and His fear shall last

Till hours, and years, and time be past.

As rain on meadows newly mown,

So shall He send his influence down:

His grace on fainting souls distills,

Like heav’nly dew on thirsty hills.

The heathen lands, that lie beneath

The shades of overspreading death,

Revive at His first dawning light;

And deserts blossom at the sight.

The saints shall flourish in His days,

Dressed in the robes of joy and praise;

Peace, like a river, from His throne

Shall flow to nations yet unknown.

Isaac Watts (1674–1748)

Rebecca McLaughlin on Easter and Resurrection

Every month, The Good Book Company make available digital versions of one of their books at no charge. This month (March 2024) it’s Is Easter Unbelievable? Four Questions Everyone Should Ask about the Resurrection Story by Rebecca McLaughlin, a short but excellent exploration of the reality and significance of Jesus’ death and resurrection, which is available in exchange for an email address here.

Explore (January–March 2024)

Every month, The Good Book Company make available digital versions of one of their books at no charge. This month (January 2024) it’s Explore, ninety-one dated and numbered devotions from January to March 2024, featuring Jason Meyer on Mark's Gospel, Tim Chester on Ezekiel, and Carl Laferton on Easter, available in exchange for an email address here.

Rebecca McLaughlin on Easter

Every month, The Good Book Company make available digital versions of one of their books at no charge. This month (April 2023) it’s Is Easter Unbelievable? Four Questions Everyone Should Ask about the Resurrection Story by Rebecca McLaughlin, a short but excellent exploration of the reality and significance of Jesus’ death and resurrection, which is available in exchange for an email address here.

Jesus, the Crucified, Pleads for Me

For Good Friday:

Jesus, the Crucified, pleads for me,

While he is nailed to the shameful tree.

Scorned and forsaken, derided and cursed,

See how his enemies do their worst!

Yet, in the midst of the torture and shame,
Jesus, the Crucified, breathes my name:

Wonder of wonders, oh, how can it be?

Jesus, the Crucified, pleads for me!

Lord, I have left thee, I have denied,

Followed the world in my selfish pride;

Lord, I have joined in the hateful cry,

Slay him, away with him, crucify!

Lord, I have done it, oh! ask me not how;

Woven the thorns for thy tortured brow;

Yet in his pity, so boundless and free,

Jesus, the Crucified, pleads for me!

‘Though thou hast left me and wandered away,

Chosen the darkness instead of the day;

Though thou art covered with many a stain,

Though thou hast wounded me oft and again;

Though thou hast followed thy wayward will;

Yet, in my pity, I love thee still.’

Wonder of wonders it ever must be!
Jesus, the Crucified, pleads for me!

Jesus is dying, in agony sore,
Jesus is suffering more and more,
Jesus is bowed with the weight of his woe,
Jesus is faint with each bitter throe.
Jesus is bearing it all in my stead,

Pity incarnate for me has bled;

Wonder of wonders it ever must be!

Jesus, the Crucified, pleads for me!

William John Sparrow-Simpson (1860–1952)