A God who has condemned us with His law,
Demanding nothing but perfection.
Like beasts we plead for life; we thrash, we claw,
No hope for mercy or protection.
A God who has condemned Himself instead,
Enduring even crucifixion,
And then is resurrected from the dead,
To free us of our sin-addiction.
Then where is condemnation? It is gone,
For who condemns what God’s forgiven?
So we are free through Jesus’ work alone,
Renewed, our mind is Spirit-driven.
Our flesh, though dead in rotten, rebel sin,
Is now infused with life in Spirit,
He pulls our minds away from lusts of men,
And speaks God’s word that we may hear it.
We’re saved! And yet the Spirit works again,
After He gives us Jesus’ merit,
He changes us, adopting us to Him,
That we the living God inherit!
I see the phantom terror strong,
The damning angel’s sword is drawn,
It’s stretched against the holy hill,
Ten thousand sevens he has killed.
These sheep are slaughtered for my sin,
Lord, bring this plague unto an end!
My dignity is thrown aside,
As to Jehovah’s throne I cried.
I cried and pleaded for His grace,
In desperation, on my face.
“What profit is there in my death?
I praise you with my living breath.
Would Your name then be glorified,
If my belief were vilified?
Display Your power in this day,
Dismay the mockers when You save!”
The Lord has turned His ear to me,
He has responded graciously.
He sent this threat to right my pride,
To make me panic as He hides.
He turned my heart back unto Him,
That I would grieve over my sin.
The angel has put up his sword!
Our hill redeemed by our great Lord.
My sackcloth changed for wedding robes,
To sing and dance, not weep and mope.
In order that for all my days,
My body may proclaim His praise.
My purpose, then, to glorify,
My Lord who saved and sanctifies.
He hauled me from my self-dug well,
I must exalt Him, thus compelled.
So teach the world to sing my song,
God saved us when Death’s sword was drawn.
His anger for an instant seen,
Is swallowed in eternity,
Apostasy consumed like dross,
His wrath gives way unto His cross.
For we may weep on Friday night,
But He will soon appear in light,
The end – oh Death, where have you fled?
Oh Grave who could not hold your dead.
Our wicked sin thrown into hell,
Redeemed forever we will tell.
This momentary trial is,
Preparing us for endless bliss.
The sanctity of priests defined,
No trifling with grace we own,
A nationhood of priests aligned,
To all the world His glory shown.
Commanded then to separate,
The holy from the vile,
Presuming not upon His grace,
But humbly reconciled.
Remember God is in the saints,
His special presence in our hearts.
The keep yourselves from worldly taints,
And in His church always take part.
Consuming what is holy then,
And taking it with in our mouths.
To purge your mind of thoughts of sin,
The toxic weight that drags you down.
Let everything you eat or see,
Or read, or say, or think, or play,
But drive you to God’s sanctity,
To serve Him better day by day.
For holiness from God descends,
And given by Him graciously.
Springs from relationship with Him,
Both guarded fierce and given free.
Oh, let this sanctity we’re given,
Show all the world our Holy Lord,
Who granted sinners be forgiven,
The filthy to His house restored.