Hallelujah! What a Saviour!

For this year’s Good Friday:

Man of Sorrows! what a name

For the Son of God, who came

Ruined sinners to reclaim.

Hallelujah! What a Saviour!

Bearing shame and scoffing rude,

In my place condemned He stood;

Sealed my pardon with His blood.

Hallelujah! What a Saviour!

Guilty, vile, and helpless we;

Spotless Lamb of God was He;

‘Full atonement!’ can it be?

Hallelujah! What a Saviour!

Lifted up was He to die;

‘It is finished!’ was His cry;

Now in Heav’n exalted high.

Hallelujah! What a Saviour!

When He comes, our glorious King,

All His ransomed home to bring,

Then anew His song we’ll sing:

Hallelujah! What a Saviour!

Philip P. Bliss (1838–76)

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)

All praise to Thee, Eternal Lord

I have fond memories of singing this in a makeshift choir which got together annually to sing some of the lesser-known carols, of which this was one my favourites.

All praise to Thee, Eternal Lord,

Clothed in a garb of flesh and blood;

Choosing a manger for Thy throne,

While worlds on worlds are Thine alone.

Once did the skies before Thee bow;

A virgin’s arms contain Thee now,

While angels, who in Thee rejoice,

Now listen for Thine infant voice.

A little Child, Thou art our Guest,

That weary ones in Thee may rest;

Forlorn and lowly is Thy birth;

That we may rise to Heaven from earth.

Thou comest in the darksome night

To make us children of the light;

To make us, in the realms divine,

Like Thine own angels round Thee shine.

All this for us Thy love hath done;

By this to Thee our love is won;

For this we tune our cheerful lays,

And sing our thanks in ceaseless praise.

Words are ascribed to Martin Luther, translated into English by an unknown author.

Jesus, Thy Blood and Righteousness

For this year’s Good Friday.

The words are a translation by John Wesley (1703-91) of a hymn written by Nicolaus Ludwig Graf von Zinzendorf (1700-60).

Jesus, thy blood and righteousness

my beauty are, my glorious dress;

’midst flaming worlds, in these arrayed,

with joy shall I lift up my head.

Bold shall I stand in thy great day;

for who aught to my charge shall lay?

Fully absolved through these I am

from sin and fear, from guilt and shame.

When from the dust of death I rise

to claim my mansion in the skies,

e’en then this shall be all my plea,

Jesus hath lived, hath died, for me.

Jesus, be endless praise to thee,

whose boundless mercy hath for me,

for me a full atonement made,

an everlasting ransom paid.

O let the dead now hear thy voice;

now bid thy banished ones rejoice;

their beauty this, their glorious dress,

Jesus, thy blood and righteousness.