April 1, 2021
I want to invite you to slow down and walk very deliberately through the following verses.
He was despised and forsaken of men, a man of sorrows and acquainted with grief; and like one from whom men hide their face He was despised, and we did not esteem Him.
Surely our griefs He Himself bore, and our sorrows He carried; yet we ourselves esteemed Him stricken, smitten of God, and afflicted. But He was pierced through for our transgressions, He was crushed for our iniquities; the chastening for our well-being fell upon Him, and by His scourging we are healed. All of us like sheep have gone astray, each of us has turned to his own way; but the Lord has caused the iniquity of us all to fall on Him. (Isa. 53:3–6 NASB)
This is the lament of Holy Week. Watch as Isaiah 53 unfolds in Song 69.
Psalm 69
To the tune of “O Sing a Song of Bethlehem” C.M. Sing it at soundtrackforlent.com
1 Save me, O God, for waters have
engulfed me like a flood;
2 There is no foothold as I sink
in miry depths, O God.
3 I’ve called for help, my throat is parched,
and God cannot be found;
4 And those who hate me without cause
are more than I can count.
Yes, many are my enemies;
their plot to kill is real,
And I am forced to give to them
what I did never steal.
5 You know my folly, O my God;
my guilt is in plain view.
6 Let me not be a cause of shame
for all who hope in You.
O Lord, the Lord Almighty God,
may those who seek Your face,
Not be ashamed because of me;
O God of Israel’s race.
7 For I endure scorn for Your sake;
my face is filled with shame;
8 I am a stranger to my kin,
to all who share my name.
9 I am consumed with zeal, O Lord,
for Your house fervently;
The insults of those who curse You
now fall with weight on me.
10 And when I weep and fast, I must
endure scorn constantly;
11 When sackcloth is my daily garb,
they all make sport of me.
12 Those seated at the gate mock me;
they taunt with drunken song;
13 But to You, Lord, I pray—hear me!
Your love is wide and long.
14 In Your salvation, answer me,
and save me from the mire;
Don’t let me sink—deliver me!
Their hatred does not tire.
15 Deep waters roll, the floodgates pour,
the depths will swallow me;
Don’t let the flood engulf me or
the pit close over me.
16 Lord, from the goodness of Your love,
in mercy turn to me.
17 Don’t hide Your face, for I’m distressed;
come answer speedily.
18 Come near and rescue me, O God;
redeem me from my foes;
19 You know I’m scorned, disgraced, and shamed;
my enemies You know.
20 Their scorn has left me helpless and
my heart is torn in two;
No one gives comfort, sympathy;
I have no one but You.
21 They gave me gall in food to eat,
and vinegar to drink;
22 May their table become a trap,
a snare they would not think.
23 Their eyes be darkened as the blind;
their backs be ever bent;
24 Pour wrath on them and let them know
the anger You have sent.
25 May their place be deserted and
let none be there to dwell;
26 For they wound those You strike, O Lord;
my pain they love to tell.
27 Charge them with crime on crime, my God;
don’t let them know Your grace.
28 May they be blotted from Your book,
nor live to see Your face.
29 I am in pain and in distress;
God, save and protect me;
30 And I will praise Your name in song,
to God my thanks will be.
31 And this will please the Lord far more
than ox or bull with horn;
32 The poor will see and will be glad,
who seek God night and morn.
33 The Lord hears those who cry in need;
He does not turn away.
34 Let heav’n, earth, sea, and all therein,
give Him praise every day.
35 For God will save and will rebuild
the cities of Zion;
His people will possess the land
of Judah, every one.
36 Their children will inherit it;
all those who love His name.
They’ll dwell there, all His servants and
their children, free from shame.
Maundy Thursday
Will you dare to sing now?
You’ve noticed by now the break with the rhythm and cadence of prior days. Why? On Maundy Thursday, the Son of God was arrested like a common criminal. There is nothing normal about today or tomorrow or any day thereafter. Our familiar pattern is gone now. There is no neatly ordered liturgy to comfort us.
Ask Yourself. Share with Another.
Have the events of Holy Week become so familiar they no longer carry shock value? What can be done to recover our perception of such extraordinary events?
For the Awakening,
J.D. Walt
Sower-in-Chief
seedbed.com