Happy Easter, it came a bit early this year. The hymn for March is Alas, and Did My Savior Bleed, written by Isaac Watts back in 1707 with its melody line written by Ralph Erskine Hudson. I’m starting to realize that it is a trend for someone to write the lyrics for a hymn and someone else to compose its melody.

I had a bit of confusion trying to find the right version of this hymn. Many versions came with an additional refrain, “At the cross, at the cross, when I first saw the light”, which was not in the original lyrics of the hymn. I later found out that this was added by Hudson that was later popularized in the United States. The more you know, I guess?

Gospel Experience

In anticipation for Easter, my church worked on putting together an immersive exhibit depicting the gospel message–titled, The Gospel Experience, over the course of a weekend. It was a series of three rooms–a modern sin room (a.k.a what’s wrong with the world?), a personal sin room, and the final room depicting the crucifixion and resurrection of Jesus. This would be the first time we have put on this exhibit since 2019.

It was a lot of work, stressful but fun. It was a marvel to see a large group of people working together building a three-room experience from the ground up, in the span of virtually a day. This was like a modern experience of rebuilding the fallen walls of Jerusalem. My small part in contributing towards these proverbial walls was printing and assembling the 700 reflection booklets that came with this experience. I haven’t done anything like this before but I was determined to do my part well.

Yet, after working hard to print/assemble these booklets (even with some QA checks along the way), an error was discovered in the booklets where there was a blank space underneath a verse. It was missing a verse reference. I somehow accidentally removed the verse reference while formatting the booklet.

I despaired a bit.

We had to open every one of those 700 booklets to put a sticker where the missing verse reference was.

The only comfort was discovering that the original design contained the wrong verse reference (Romans 8:5), meaning it would have been inevitable for us to be correcting something with stickers.

That missing verse was Romans 5:8, which says:

But God shows his love for us in that while we were still sinners, Christ died for us. - Romans 5:8

Thoughts

The reason I bring up this verse is because I don’t think I will be forgetting this verse anytime soon after that experience. I also think it is a very apt verse to go with this month’s hymn (the five-verse version).

This hymn begins with the line, “Alas, and did my Savior bleed, And did my Sovereign die? Would He devote that sacred head for sinners such as I?” The word, ‘alas’, implies sorrow and regret, like a personal sense of responsibility that we had in leading to our Savior to bleed and die on the cross. Leading up to Easter, I felt distant from the cross. Yes, I’m a sinner. Yes, Jesus died on the cross for my sins. But what does that have to do with me?

During our Good Friday service, my pastor asked, “how are you doing in terms of what the cross tells you and who you are?”

The worst mistake I can make is denying I had anything to do with the cross and putting Jesus on there.

The second verse challenges me to think about what I’ve done to personally drive Jesus to the cross, asking the rhetorical question, “was it for crimes that I had done He groaned up on the tree?”

If I look myself honestly and ignore maybe the favorable narratives that paint myself as the one being wronged, I could see that I’ve actually wronged others in my actions, words, and thoughts. I am far from an innocent victim. As I’ve expressed discontent about my life or focus on the things I don’t have or my own negativity, it’s not just hating life, it’s also resenting God as well, blaming for things that he had never promised me or things that I felt entitled to have but never received. I reject the fact that he is good God and take it for granted what I have already been fortunate to receive. I might as well have been like one in the crowd who called for Jesus’ death, when he did not turn out to be the Savior they imagined.

When Jesus would have had full rights to condemn the people who condemned and hurt him, he chose to move towards them more instead. Likewise, in my resentment and discontent towards him, instead of rightfully calling me out and condemning me on my sense of entitlement, Jesus chose instead to show me “amazing pity, grace unknown, and love beyond degree.”

God is the one who offers me forgiveness undeserved and sacrificed His son, so that I can get a pass from the punishment I rightly deserved on the cross. He did so much for me and yet, I reject him and feel entitled to what I have received, lying to myself that I deserve this. No one would die for another person, rarely for a good person but here is Jesus who did far more than that. He died for me, the one who hurt others and resented Him and blamed Him for things He did not do or give to me. That is the love beyond degree.

As I wrestle with my own feelings of frustration and resentment towards God, I feel my heart wanting to remain stubborn. The words of the third verse, “dissolve my heart in thankfulness and melt mine eyes to tears”, is what I hope to feel in light of the cross. I want God to transform my heart into one of gratitude and humility, to even begin to grasp at God’s love that is so undeserving but goes so far for me.

Shouldn’t that be something I find amazing?

The fourth verse is very clear: “Christ, the mighty maker, died for man the creature’s sin.“

I am a wretched creature that a perfect sovereign God sacrificed his life for with Jesus on the cross. Doesn’t that strike me? Isn’t this story of God’s love and sacrifice more amazing than whatever “noble” or “victim” narrative I can paint for myself?

There is an attitude presented this hymn that I wish to have–to be in a state of perpetual penance and gratitude. It’s fitting that the hymn ends with the line:

Drops of grief can never repay the debt of love I owe; here Lord, I give myself away. Tis all I can do.

As I reflect more this week, I hope that those words can be the resolution I reach as well too.

P.S. For Easter potluck, I made ratatouille crostini. It wasn’t the prettiest but tasted fine to me. It’s a festive, colorful dish to celebrate the resurrection of Jesus.