How Deep the Father’s Love For Us

We sang the following song in church last Sunday, and it touched my heart.  The song is titled “How Deep the Father’s Love For Us.”  The first verse is below:

“How deep the Father’s love for us, How vast beyond all measure;
That He should give His only Son, To make a wretch His treasure.
How great the pain of searing loss, The Father turns His face away;
As wounds which mar the chosen One, Bring many sons to glory.”

It struck me how utterly incapable we are of coming even remotely close to comprehending the infinite depth of God’s love for us.  “That He should give His only Son, To make a wretch His treasure.”  That line hit home, and it hit hard.  I tried to put it in the context of giving my only child, my daughter, over to certain, violent death so that a serial rapist and murderer could experience an abundant and eternal life.  I can’t fathom that at all.  I’m certain I’d be unable to do such a thing.  Yet the Most High chose to do so for someone like me.  He, the perfect One, sent His only Son to die a violent, cruel death at the hands of wicked, depraved men.  I can’t understand why He would do that, and I certainly can’t understand why He would do that for someone like me, who struggles daily with all sorts of sin.  Yet God sacrificed so that a wretch like me could be called His son.  It moves me near tears thinking about this even now.

But it gets better.  The second verse is as follows:

“Behold the Man upon a cross, My sin upon His shoulders;
Ashamed, I hear my mocking voice, Call out among the scoffers.
It was my sin that held Him there, Until it was accomplished;
His dying breath has brought me life—I know that it is finished.”

As I sang this verse last Sunday, I actually had to stop singing.  It’s rare that a song really, really moves me; but this verse made it impossible for me to sing.  As I thought about the words to this verse, it was all I could do not to allow the tears welling up in my eyes to roll down my cheeks.  As I thought of my dear Saviour, hanging on that cross, hearing the mocking voices, I couldn’t bear to think about my life.  It was for my sin He died.  It was my filthy pride that put Him on that cross.  It was my rebellious heart that put Him there.  It was for me—me—He died.  How utterly unworthy I am of such love.

And then came the third and final verse, which I was unable to sing.

“I will not boast in anything, No gifts, no power, no wisdom;
But I will boast in Jesus Christ, His death and resurrection.
Why should I gain from His reward? I cannot give an answer.
But this I know with all my heart: His wounds have paid my ransom.”

How can I ever boast?  How can I even be so presumptuous as to think I’m worth anything outside Him?  It is only because of His amazing love and grace that we are anything at all.  I am simply incapable of comprehending this infinite love.  But I know I’m unworthy of it.

~ by Matt on December 10, 2007.