My song is Love Unknown
My Saviour's Love to me
Love to the Loveless shown
That they might lovely be
O who am I, that for my sake
My Lord should take frail flesh and die?
He came from His blest Throne
Salvation to bestowBut men were strange
And none the long-ed for Christ would know
But O, my friend, my friend indeed
who at my need his life did spend.
Sometimes they strew his way
and his sweet praises sing
resounding all the day
Hosannas to their King
Then 'Crucify'is all their breath
and for his death they thirst and cry.
Here might I stay and sing
no story so divine
Never was love, dear King
Never was grief like thine.
This is my friend
in whose sweet praise I all my days
could gladly spend.
Sam Crossmnan
Look! My servant will prosper, will grow great, will rise to great heights.
As meny were aghast at him-he was so inhumanly disfigured, that he no longer looked like a man, so many nations he will sprinkle.And kings will stand tight lipped in front of him, seeing what had never been told them.They learned what they had not heard before.
Who has given accepted what we have heard, and who has seen in it what the Lord has planned for our salvation. Like a Sapling he grew up before Him,like a root in the dry ground. He had no form or charm to attract us, no beauty to win our hearts.He was despised and rejected of men, a man of sorrows, familiar with suffering, one from whom we looked away, as it were, whom we did not respect.
Yet our suffering was His suffering, he was carrying our sorrows ,and while we thought he was being punished and struck with affliction by God, he was actually being wounded by our sins and disobedience,and crushed because of our guilt.
The punishment on us fell on him, and reconciled us to God.
And we are healed by his bruises.
We always go astray like sheep, and we all go off doing our own thing, but God took all our acts of rebellion against him and put them on this scapegoat man. He was ill treated and tortured , but never opened his mouth. He went like a lamb to the slaughter, and like a sheep dumb in front of its shearers, he never opened his mouth'.
From the Prophet Isaiah 53
Mein Lied ist Unbekannte Liebe
Die Liebe meines Retters zu mir
Is Liebe den Lieblosen gezeigt
Das sie lieblich warden
Denn wer bin ich ,Das meinetwegen
Mein Herr schwaches Fleisch
Genommen hat, und gestorben ist?
Er kam zu uns von seinem gesgneten Throne
Um unser Heiland zu werden
Und keine,die nach ihm sehnten
Würden Christ anerkennen
Aber O, mein Freund, Wirklich mein Freund
wem an meiner Notwendigkeit
sein Leben aufwendete.
Manchmal streuen sie seine Wege
und singen süssen Lobgesange
Erschallen den ganzen Tag
ihrem König ‘Hosianna!’
Dann wird ihr ganzer Atem ‘Kreuziget ihn!’
und dursten für seinen Tod und Schmerz
Hier mochte ich bleiben und singen
keine Geschichte so göttlich
nie gab e seine solche Liebe, lieber König
nie gab es eine solche Trauer wie deine.
Er ist mein Freund, in wessem Lob
Ich wurde all meine Tage verbringer.
