And Can It Be

Last week, I ordered a series of CD's as a birthday gift from my mom. They all were hymns set to baroque style music. The series is called To God All Praise and Glory . I highly recommend them.

This morning as I was worshiping with them, I heard "And Can It Be", so I went to Cyberhymnal to get the lyrics. And lo and behold, I discovered that there were SIX verses to the hymn. In my whole life, I had only every seen five of them. And what a powerful verse too! Look at it:

Still the small inward voice I hear,
That whispers all my sins forgiven;
Still the atoning blood is near,
That quenched the wrath of hostile Heaven.
I feel the life His wounds impart;
I feel the Savior in my heart.
I feel the life His wounds impart;
I feel the Savior in my heart.

What an amazing verse! I, of course, see the reason that it would never be included in a modern hymnal since we cannot discuss the wrath of hostile Heaven. However, even if we cannot discuss it, I certainly have felt it and immediately identified with Wesley's sentiments. His wording is reminiscent of two poems I wrote when I was attending Moody Bible Institute, which I will reproduce below:

With terror I approach the Sinai Mount
As clouds of coal obstruct the sunshine rays.
While lightning lunges from its fi’ry fount,
A thund’rous trumpet blasts my speechless gaze.
A Lamb appears, Who climbs the mountainside.
He proffers blood drawn from His mangled back:
Behind this cover, please, I ask you hide
Lest seeing sin, my Father plans attack.
I heed, and all the dreadful sight dissolves.
The glor’ous temple now my orbs perceive.
A bloody mercy seat th’ offense absolves.
The Father, Son through Spirit me receive.
This covenant anew assures no less
Their mercy toward my gross unrighteousness.

AND

From Adam’s lapse an heir I fell to sin.
Its virulent corruption seized my soul.
Against its rape of death I could not win.
My punctured heart despaired of life’s true goal.
Condemned beyond all mercy there I stood.
So mired were they, my hands dripped loathsome guilt.
The charge was read; my tongue was parchèd wood.
One stone had felled the fortress that I’d built.
The Son emerged in radiant attire.
He bared His back revealing stripes He’d borne:
Hear now these wounds that plead your case so dire.
I’ll give My righteousness to you adorn.
O shout for joy, you stars who saw this act,
For Christ’s own blood has signed th’ adoption pact.