The Wondrous

Nearly every morning I have a song on my heart as I drive the short 10 minutes to work, always a hymn, and sometimes I sing it.  Yesterday it was the lovely When I Survey the Wondrous Cross.

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.

Were the whole realm of nature mine,
That were a present far too small;
Love so amazing, so divine,
Demands my soul, my life, my all.

Last night I Googled it, and discovered the words were written by Isaac Watts in 1707, more than three hundred years ago.  And yet today it still speaks a depth of sentiment that is divine.  This hymn can soften me to tears. 

It brings to mind the quote from C.S. Lewis: “It would seem that Our Lord finds our desires not too strong, but too weak. We are half-hearted creatures, fooling about with drink and sex and ambition when infinite joy is offered us, like an ignorant child who wants to go on making mud pies in a slum because he cannot imagine what is meant by the offer of a holiday at the sea. We are far too easily pleased.” 

Charles Wesley was born in England the same year Isaac Watts wrote this hymn.  Wesley went on to write more than 6,000 hymns of his own during his lifetime.  He is reported to have said he would give up all his other hymns to have written When I Survey the Wondrous Cross. 

Ah we trip over our folly, we human types.  This devout man lusted after the glory and place of having written a simple hymn;  a hymn that is a beautiful homage to a love that desires not fame or place or glory, but only the perfect Lamb of God.