Sunday Hymn: O Sacred Head, Now Wounded

O sac­red head, now wound­ed,
With grief and shame weighed down,
Now scorn­ful­ly sur­round­ed
With thorns, Thine on­ly crown;
O sac­red head, what glo­ry!
What bliss, till now was Thine!
Yet, though des­pised and go­ry,
I joy to call Thee mine.

O nob­lest brow, and dear­est!
In oth­er days the world
All feared, when Thou ap­peared’st,
What shame on Thee is hurled!
How art Thou pale with ang­uish,
With sore ab­use and scorn;
How does that vi­sage lang­uish,
When once was bright as morn.

The blush­es late re­sid­ing
Upon that ho­ly cheek,
The ros­es once ab­id­ing
Upon those lips so meek,
Alas! they have de­part­ed;
Wan Death has ri­fled all!
For weak and brok­en heart­ed,
I see Thy bo­dy fall.

What Thou, my Lord, hast suf­fered,
Was all for sin­ners’ gain;
Mine, mine was the trans­gress­ion,
But Thine the dead­ly pain.
Lo, here I fall, my Sav­ior!
’Tis I de­serve Thy place;
Look on me with Thy fa­vor,
Vouchsafe to me Thy grace.

Receive me, my Re­deem­er,
My Shep­herd, make me Thine;
Of eve­ry good the fount­ain,
Thou art the spring of mine.
Thy lips with love dis­till­ing,
And milk of truth sin­cere,
With Heav­en’s bliss are fill­ing
The soul that trem­bles here.

Beside Thee, Lord, I’ve tak­en
My place—for­bid me not!
Hence will I ne’er be shak­en,
Though Thou to death be brought,
If pain’s last pale­ness hold Thee,
In ago­ny op­pressed,
Then, then will I en­fold Thee
Within this arm and breast!

The joy can ne’er be spok­en,
Above all joys be­side;
When in Thy body brok­en
I thus with safe­ty hide.
My Lord of life, de­sir­ing
Thy glo­ry now to see,
Beside the cross ex­pir­ing,
I’d breathe my soul to Thee.

What lang­uage shall I bor­row,
To thank Thee, dear­est Friend,
For this, Thy dy­ing sor­row,
Thy pi­ty with­out end?
Oh! make me Thine for­ev­er,
And should I fain­ting be,
Lord, let me nev­er, nev­er
Outlive my love to Thee.

And when I am de­part­ing,
Oh! part not Thou from me;
When mor­tal pangs are dart­ing,
Come, Lord, and set me free;
And when my heart must lang­uish
Amidst the fi­nal throe,
Release me from mine an­guish,
By Thine own pain and woe!

Be near me when I am dy­ing,
Oh! show Thy cross to me;
And for my suc­cor fly­ing,
Come, Lord, and set me free!
These eyes new faith re­ceiv­ing,
From Je­sus shall not move,
For he who dies be­liev­ing,
Dies safe­ly through Thy love.

— Attributed to Ber­nard of Clair­vaux, 1153 

Theological Term of the Week: Simul Justus et Peccator

simul justus et peccator
Latin for “at the same time just and sinner,” a formula Martin Luther used to communicate “the objective  reality of justification by faith alongside the Christian’s continual struggle against sin.”1

• From scripture:

And to the one who does not work but believes in him who justifies the ungodly, his faith is counted as righteousness .  .  .  . (Romans 4:5 ESV).

• From The Westminster Confession of Faith, Chaper 11:

1. Those whom God effectually calls, He also freely justifies; not by infusing righteousness into them, but by pardoning their sins, and by accounting and accepting their persons as righteous; not for any thing wrought in them, or done by them, but for Christ’s sake alone; nor by imputing faith itself, the act of believing, or any other evangelical obedience to them, as their righteousness; but by imputing the obedience and satisfaction of Christ unto them, they receiving and resting on Him and His righteousness by faith; which faith they have not of themselves, it is the gift of God.

• From Daily Doctrine by Kevin DeYoung, page 255:

[T]he Reformers insisted that the formal cause of our justification is the righteousness and obedience of Christ imputed to believers by faith alone. An inherent righteousness cannot be the cause of or justification because our best deeds are always imperfect. The Pharisee confessed that he had done his good works by God’s grace, but still he could not be justified by them (Luke 18:9-14). 

… Imputation is essential to the storyline of Scripture. Adam’s disobedience was imputed, our sin was imputed to Christ, and Christ’s obedience is imputed to the elect. Abraham believed and it was credited to him as righteousness (Gen.15:6; Rom. 4:23-25; Gal. 3:6). The logic of 2 Corinthians 5:21 teaches the we must become righteous that same way Christ became sin. Righteousness is not the moral quality of the justified soul just like sin was not the moral quality of Christ’s soul. Though without sin, Christ was reckoned to be a sinner. In the same way, though still sinners, we are reckoned to be righteous.

… Righteousness is constituted of us—by imputation—in order for “righteous” to be justly declared of us. God did not set aside that law in judging us. He fulfilled it. Christ bore the curse of the law so that in him we might become the righteousness of God—sinners, but as the same time justified (simul justus et peccator).

Learn more:

1. R. C. Sproul: What Does “Simul Justus et Peccator” Mean?
2. R. C. Sproul: “Simul Justus et Peccator”
3. Monergism.com: Simul Iustus et Peccator
4. Kevin DeYoung: Five Key Concepts in the Reformation Understanding of Justification

Related terms:

• active obedience
• double imputation
• justification

1From Pocket Dictionary of the Reformed Faith by Kelly M. Kapic & Wesley Vander Lugt

Filed under Reformed Theology

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Sunday Hymn: Be Thou My Vision

Be Thou my vi­sion, O Lord of my heart;
Naught be all else to me, save that Thou art.
Thou my best thought, by day or by night,
Waking or sleep­ing, Thy pre­sence my light.

Be Thou my wis­dom, and Thou my true word;
I ev­er with Thee and Thou with me, Lord;
Thou my great Fa­ther, I Thy true son;
Thou in me dwell­ing, and I with Thee one.

Be Thou my bat­tle shield, sword for the fight;, 
Be Thou my dig­ni­ty, Thou my de­light;
Thou my soul’s shel­ter, Thou my high tow­er:
Raise Thou me heav’n­ward, O pow­er of my pow­er.

Riches I heed not, nor man’s emp­ty praise,
Thou mine in­her­it­ance, now and al­ways:
Thou and Thou on­ly, first in my heart,
High King of Heav­en, my trea­sure Thou art.

High King of Heav­en, my vic­to­ry on,
May I reach Heav’n’s joys, O bright Heav­en’s sun!
Heart of my own heart, what­ev­er be­fall,
Still be my vi­sion, O Rul­er of all.

— Attributed to Dal­lán For­gaill, c. 560 – 640