Something entirely unexpected: a British Conservative blog I enjoy. (I guess it’s really only the Conservatives in the US that are unhinged.) Not just because it’s named after Thomas Cranmer of the Book of Common Prayer, and not just because the author threatens to fisk an awful lot. It claims to scrutinise ‘religio-political agendas with politico-religious objectives’. Meaty, opinionated, wry analysis with its heart and soul and mind and strength directed at the right place. So I like it. Ach, you simply must read the entry on Baby P: click here, please.
Anyway, the latest entry has reminded me of a hymn that speaks more and more of my heart as time goes by (thank God), which I’d like to share with you today:
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.
See, from his head, his hands, his feet,
Sorrow and love flow mingled down;
Did e’er such love and sorrow meet,
Or thorns compose so rich a crown.
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.
Christ not just as Intercessor, Saviour, Lord — Christ as Brother, Friend and Counsellor. I hope to know Him ever better in the year ahead.
You are holy, great and mighty
The moon and the stars declare who You are
I’m so unworthy but still You love me
Forever my heart will sing of how great You are
All glory, honour, power is Yours, amen
All glory, honour, power is Yours forever, amen
From ‘Cannons’ by Phil Wickham (live performance below)