29 stanzas of greatness for our readers.

220px-Thomas_kingoThank you to Mark DeGarmeaux for the translation.

We know this one from LSB’s “On my heart imprint Your Image” which is only one stanza long.  There are 28 other great stanzas to consider and meditate upon from the mind and faith of Thomas Kingo.  Here they are for you to read and sing.

Christ’s Crucifixion, Suffering, and Death

which can be used before the sermon on Good Friday, at Matins as well as at High Mass, and also for Vespers according to the direction of the Ritual

BRYDER FREM I HULE SUCKE* [29]

tune: Freu dich sehr

Verse 15 translated by P. O. Stromme, 1898, alt.

 

1 Break ye forth, with empty sighing

From the depths within my heart;

Nothing ever was so trying

Piercing through my every part!

For the grief my soul must bear

And my inmost heart must share

Shall be from my eyes e’er flowing

And my tongue be e’er forth showing.

 

2 People out of every nation,

All the earth’s most wretched throng,

Learn ye well sin’s condemnation

For God’s Son must suffer long!

God and Man for us today

All the debt of sin must pay.

God in flesh for us must suffer

And Himself to death must offer.

 

3 Unto death they now will lead Him;

Think, my soul, He passes there!

See, how sorely He is bleeding,

How His own cross He must bear!

See what misery He bears

See how pitifully He fares!

See the crown of thorns around Him,

How His blood would nearly drown Him.

 

4 Ponder on His wounds so painful

Writhing as a worm would be

See His spirit pierced and baneful

How He moans in misery.

Bruised and bleeding from the blows,

Scarcely able, forth He goes

With His cross upon Him lying

On to Golgotha for dying.

 

5 Ask ye not what He is wearing

All His clothes so bloody be

Now the wrath of God He’s bearing

Sacrifice for all is He!

Wicked Serpent strikes His heel

Poison in His heart to spill;

All His veins are throughly rended

For our evil He is sended.

 

6 Ponder how the cross is dragging

O my soul, remember aye

Proudly they with heads a-wagging,

Clear for Him death’s darkest way;

Sharp’ning nails and whetting spear,

For the spotless One draws near,

Who though innocent must bear it,

Who the greatest honour merits.

 

7 O how mockingly they offer

Bitter drink in front of all

And His weakened heart must suffer

All their evil filled with gall!

Myrrh and vinegar they tip

To His blessed sacred lip

Even in His place of judgement,

Oh, unheard of sin and torment!

 

8 High upon the cross they lift Him

Pressing hard, they make Him moan,

And with cruelty they outstretch Him,

Arms fatigued down to the bone

Nail Him to the cursed tree,

Thus to break His spirit free,

Wickedly they leave Him hanging,

Thus His suff’ring more prolonging.

 

9 All His powers have quickly faded

Hard His breath comes more and more

Heavy with His burden weighted

Covered all with many a sore!

Fleshly strength is all but gone

Weakened arms are all undone!

How He bows His head in anguish

And His eyes with blood must languish.

 

10 No more grace and no more mercies,

No escape, no help in need!

No one for his danger pities,

Though He doth profusely bleed!

No one offers sympathies

True compassion no one sees.

Not a heart with shame is shrinking

Deeper pain in His wounds sinking.

 

11 Everyone who passes by him,

Stand ye still and mark it well

Come yet closer, now to eye him,

In the whole world, can you tell:

Was there ever such a Man

Under God’s most wrathful ban,

Filled with pain and condemnation,

Satan’s darts and sin’s oblation.

 

12 High between two vile transgressors

He is raised for sport and shame

Cruelly mocked by His oppressors

This is God’s unspotted Lamb!

‘Twixt the malefactors see

Lifted on the cursed tree

All my Joy, my Life, my Pleasure,

My Salvation, and my Treasure.

 

13 Hear Him join in prayer and feeling

To His Father lest He may

In His wrath the door be sealing

Unto grace and life’s bright way

For His people Israel

Lest they be condemned to hell.

Still in grace to life He’d lead them

Though with scorn of death they treat Him.

 

14 On His cross has Pilate written

Splendid title: “King of Jews!”

Envy angry hearts has bitten

All who heritage misuse.

They insist on vengeance grim

Tearing Jesus limb from limb

Though they make Him bloody, gory,

Yet He is the King of Glory.

 

15 On my heart imprint Thine image,

Blessed Jesus, King of grace,

That life’s riches, care, and pleasures

Have no power Thee to efface.

This the superscription be:

Jesus, Crucified for me,

Is my Life, my hope’s Foundation,

And my Glory and Salvation.

 

16 This too added to His burden

As He in such sorrow died

That below His cross He heard them

How they would His clothes divide

How the soldiers sportingly

Sought amusement then to see

Who would gain His coat all seamless

As they make their games all shameless.

 

17 If I e’er am poor and needy

If the world so scornfully

Takes my clothing for to bleed me

Yet it still is well with me.

I shall never needy stand

When my judgement is at hand;

Then in gladness I shall wear it-

Jesus’ righteousness and merit.

 

18 All the while I watch and worry

As they mock Thee spitefully

And each wicked wretch doth hurry,

Wagging head so gleefully;

But, O Jesus, by Thy pains

On Thy cross of bloody stains

My disgrace and shame do vanish

And my condemnation banish.

 

19 Now repentant one thief suffers

Throes of death in steadfast faith

Thy compassioned heart now offers

Promise of eternal life.

Free me, Jesus, from my shame

When as Judge, Thou call’st my name

Like the thief in faith now dying,

Grant me grace on Thee relying.

 

20 Jesus, all this makes me wonder

As I see each drop of blood,

Deep in thought I too must ponder

How Thy mother near Thee stood

By Thy cross she now must see

All Thy pain and misery

How such shame Thy powers spendeth

Sorrow deep her heart now rendeth.

 

21 Human language cannot borrow

How the sword hath piercéd through

Mary’s soul is filled with sorrow,

As she deep in woe doth rue;

How she suffers sorrow’s throe

Seeing all the pain and woe

Of her Son and God’s Son only

As He hangs near death so lonely.

 

22 One disciple gives Him answer

He will for His mother care

One sweet drop doth comfort give her

In her anguish, hearing there

How He still doth care for her,

She may trust His promise sure

Jesus, grant in all my sorrow,

I may trust Thee for the morrow.

 

23 Sun no longer earth doth brighten

Covered all in shades of night.

Darkness strange the world doth frighten

Day itself hath turned to night.

Jesus, sadly cries aloud:

Eli, Eli, O my God!

Why hast Thou so soon forsaken

Thy dear Son by death o’ertaken?

 

24 My soul’s Light and Consolation,

Thou art cursed for my misdeed.

Wash my shame in lamentation

Thy dark suffering hath me freed;

For my Lord’s forsakenness

Frees me from death’s cruel press

Hell’s eternal death I merit,

But for me, my Lord did bear it.

 

25 Jesus thirsts but ne’er is given

Aught His thirst to satisfy

Vinegar is all they give Him

As He tastes it, hear Him cry:

It is finished, all indeed

That the Scripture hath decreed,

All that Adam lost by sinning,

By this drink again I’m winning.

 

26 As the drops of blood are drying

As His heart doth beating cease

Jesus unto heav’n is crying

Through death’s bitter stormy seas:

Father, in My dying end

Soul and spirit I commend

In Thy hands, and thus He dying

Bows His head, God satisfying.

 

27 Jesus dies and earth is trembling,

O my heart, learn righteous fear

Die then, all my wicked grumbling!

Die and get thee far from here!

God and Man has died for me

Since my Adam ate the tree

Bringing all men condemnation

But now Christ has won salvation.

 

28 Jesus, I Thy death am grieving

For I caused Thy passion deep

Yet Thy death is my relieving

Even when in death I sleep.

For Thy death my life doth make

Though I oft Thy heart did break

Still in grace Thy love doth brace me

Sweetly unto life shall raise me.

 

29 O my Jesus, in my dying,

Grant that it may ever be

That I speak Thy words and sighing

Which Thou spoke upon the tree.

Bow Thy head in grace to me

When in sweat of death I be;

Kiss my soul, sweet grace imparting,

Even in my last departing.

 

 

 

About Pastor Joshua Scheer

Pastor Joshua Scheer is the Senior Pastor of Our Savior Lutheran Church in Cheyenne, Wyoming. He is also the Editor-in-chief of Brothers of John the Steadfast. He oversees all of the work done by Steadfast Lutherans. He is a regular host of Concord Matters on KFUO. Pastor Scheer and his lovely wife Holly (who writes and manages the Katie Luther Sisters) have four children and enjoy living in Wyoming.

Comments

29 stanzas of greatness for our readers. — 3 Comments

  1. Thank you for this entry. I remember well this hymn from my youth and through my years of membership in the Evangelical Lutheran Synod. Prof. DeGarmeux is a valuable theologian besides being a great guy.

  2. This is wonderful! Thanks, Josh/Pastor Scheer, for bringing this to the Internet’s attention these last few days of Lent. And Thank you Professor DeGarmeaux, for your labor of love. What great comfort these hymns have been in drawing our attention to our Lord’s labor of love!

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