My Jesus, I Love Thee – Hearty Hymns from A to Z

This tender hymn, with lines penned by William Ralph Featherstone (1846-1873), set to a tune by Adoniram Judson Gordon (1836-1895), has touched the hearts of Christian believers for many generations. Although Featherstone is said to have written these beloved lines as a teenager and perhaps a brand-new Christian, growing up in Canada, the verses have often been sung to comfort those near death, those grieving the loss of a loved one, and those contemplating their own mortality in light of eternity’s promise.

Gordon, an American Baptist preacher and hymn composer, may be best remembered as the founder of Gordon College and Gordon-Conwell Theological Seminary in Massachusetts.

This long-time favorite hymn seems particularly appropriate for this Holy Week, as we await Resurrection Sunday.

My Jesus, I love Thee, I know Thou art mine;
For Thee all the follies of sin I resign.
My gracious Redeemer, my Savior art Thou;
If ever I loved Thee, my Jesus, ’tis now.

I love Thee because Thou has first loved me,
And purchased my pardon on Calvary’s tree.
I love Thee for wearing the thorns on Thy brow;
If ever I loved Thee, my Jesus, ’tis now.

I’ll love Thee in life, I will love Thee in death,
And praise Thee as long as Thou lendest me breath;
And say when the death dew lies cold on my brow,
If ever I loved Thee, my Jesus, ’tis now.

In mansions of glory and endless delight,
I’ll ever adore Thee in heaven so bright;
I’ll sing with the glittering crown on my brow;
If ever I loved Thee, my Jesus, ’tis now.

Listen to Darlene Zschech’s version of “My Jesus, I Love Thee”:

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On Good Friday: Are my eyes and heart dry?

Reflecting upon the Lenten season and particularly upon the sacrificial death of our dear Lord, I am struck by my own ability to slip into a strange and dangerous sort of devotional dormancy at times. Late winter can be just such a season.

But how can this be, in light of the remarkable grace and love of the King of Kings? How is it possible for a living human soul to forget even for a moment the majesty of God and the miraculous mercy that drove Him to the worst kind of death in our place?

19th Century artwork - public domain

 

Good Friday is good.

We shudder at the brutality and suffering our Savior endured on our behalf. We understand that He did it to rescue us from sin and from evil and from death and from ourselves. We know this dark day in history paves the way to eternal glory. So we call the day “good.”

Do we also realize that Good Friday is also good because this highest of holy occasions reminds us of the unimaginable cost of Calvary?

The Lord of the universe gave His very self for us. That cost Him everything.

Pause, and let that sink in for a moment. Can we carry that truth in our hearts?

Often, exquisite God-gifted art can point us back to the truth. Here’s an example.

This Good Friday poem stabs me right in the heart.

British Victorian writer Christina Rossetti (1830-1894) is one of my all-time favorite poets. I simply love her poetry. My Rossetti favorites include:

• “A Better Resurrection,”
• “A Daughter of Eve,”
• “Consider the Lilies of the Field,”
• “Fata Morgana,”
• “Good Friday,”
• “In the Bleak Midwinter,”
• “My Dream,”
• “Remember,”
• “She Sat and Sang,” and
• “Uphill.”

 

Christina Rossetti - public domain artwork

Rossetti’s poems display a depth of devotion and thought that strikes me to the soul. Perhaps her insights came in part from enduring three failed engagements (over matters of faith) and remaining single lifelong, devoted only to God.

Good Friday

By Christina Rossetti

Am I a stone and not a sheep

That I can stand, O Christ, beneath Thy Cross,

To number drop by drop Thy Blood's slow loss,

And yet not weep?

Not so those women loved

Who with exceeding grief lamented Thee;

Not so fallen Peter weeping bitterly;

Not so the thief was moved;

Not so the Sun and Moon

Which hid their faces in a starless sky,

A horror of great darkness at broad noon—

I, only I.

Yet give not o'er,

But seek Thy sheep, true Shepherd of the flock;

Greater than Moses, turn and look once more

And smite a rock.

As much as I love them, these lines make my heart hurt.

I wonder: Am I a stone or a sheep? Do I look to the Lord, or do I stand stoically by?

A biblical witness is not merely a neutral onlooker. We are called to be active participants in the Gospel of Christ. If I truly believe the very Son of God took on human flesh to bleed for me, then I will not merely watch, but I will also weep. I will mourn for my own misgivings. I will bear remorse and repent. Then I will rise and follow where He leads me.

In Numbers 20, the Bible tells how, in the Desert of Zin, the people thirsted, but there was no water to be found. The Lord instructed Moses to speak to a certain rock, and He promised to gush water from the stone.  Moses struck the rock, and the Almighty One brought forth water from it. Although Moses overdid it, hitting the stone instead of following God’s specific instructions, the Lord did a mighty miracle.

God is in the business of changing stony hearts.

Consider this word of the Lord to His people, spoken through the Old Testament prophet Ezekiel: 

Ezekiel 36:25-28 graphic created by this user on poster generator.

 

^“I will sprinkle clean water on you, and you will be clean; I will cleanse you from all your impurities and from all your idols. I will give you a new heart and put a new spirit in you; I will remove from you your heart of stone and give you a heart of flesh. And I will put my Spirit in you and move you to follow my decrees and be careful to keep my laws. Then you will live in the land I gave your ancestors; you will be my people, and I will be your God.” (Ezekiel 36:25-28, NIV)

Soften my heart, Lord. Carve out callousness, and sweep away senseless scars. Keep my soul ever tender for you. Draw me nearer to the heart of God, and let my eyes and words flow with grace and gratitude for all You have done for me.

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15. A Prophetic Nativity

I find this old Italian nativity oil painting (which may be seen at Madrid’s Museo del Prado) to be particularly charming. Isn’t it sweet how Mary gazes fondly at her newborn, while Joseph welcomes the unusual visitors to the scene?

Just look at the bull, standing over the Christ child. Who would ever let that happen, and what child would be safe at such a moment (except the Son of God Himself)? And notice the sweet donkey face, peeking in next to the bull.

Certain art historians have drawn a parallel between this nativity scene and the burial of Christ.

In the traditional 1^st century Israel tomb setting, the body was placed on a stone couch along the edge of the tomb chamber. (The long-empty Garden Tomb in Jerusalem, believed by many to have been the burial site of Jesus Christ, features such a configuration.) The placement of the manger in Barocci’s Nativity may be seen as a foreshadowing of this.

Nativity, by Federico Barocci, c1600

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