Site Meter
|The Thirsty Theologian| |Sola Gratia| |Sola Fide| |Solus Christus| |Sola Scriptura| |Soli Deo Gloria| |Semper Reformanda|
|The Thirsty Theologian| |Sola Gratia| |Sola Fide| |Solus Christus| |Sola Scriptura| |Soli Deo Gloria| |Semper Reformanda|

Previous · Home · Next

Lord’s Day 29, 2017


I was glad when they said to me, “Let us go to the house of the Lord.”

image

For every high priest is appointed to offer both gifts and sacrifices; so it is necessary that this high priest also have something to offer. Now if He were on earth, He would not be a priest at all, since there are those who offer the gifts according to the Law; who serve a copy and shadow of the heavenly things, just as Moses was warned by God when he was about to erect the tabernacle; for, “See,” He says, “that you make all things according to the pattern which was shown you on the mountain.” But now He has obtained a more excellent ministry, by as much as He is also the mediator of a better covenant, which has been enacted on better promises.

—Hebrews 8:3–6 (cf. Colossians 2:16–17; Hebrews 10)

I.
Augustus Toplady (1740–1778)

image

Look back, my soul, and take a view
Of Christ expiring on the tree:
Behold thy Saviour breathe his last
To buy eternal life for thee!
Thy Jesus faints,—’Tis finished, cries,
Reclines his sacred head, and dies.

Shadows and types are done away,
The temple’s veil is rent in twain:
Vanish, ye emblematic rights,
The real victim now is slain;
Is slain for sinners to atone,
The priest and sacrifice in one.

Methinks I see the purpled earth,
Startle to feel its Maker’s blood;
The sun retires, and from their graves,
Saints rise to hail their dying Lord:
Each sympathising rock appears
More tender than his murderers.

And did the Saviour thus exchange
His throne of glory for a cross?
Left he for this th’ ethereal court
To die a painful death for us?
For us he bled at ev’ry vein,
And, slain by man, for man was slain.

Obdurate heart, shall mountains heave.
And nature mourn her best belov’d,
Shall the rocks tremble at his voice,
And I alone abide unmov’d!
Shall I not weep his death to see,
Who wept in tears of blood for me?

O, Prince of martyrs, touch my heart.
There at thy mighty standard rest;
Burn purifying incense there,
Fit it for so divine a guest:
There let thy pow’rful cross reside,
’Till every lust is crucified.

The Complete Works of Augustus Toplady: An Appendix, Not Properly Reducible, etc. (Sprinkle Publications, 1987).

Grace to you and peace from God our Father and the Lord Jesus Christ.


Please don’t miss worshiping with your local congregation
if you can possibly help it.
But if you’re in need of a good sermon, try these.



Posted 2017·07·16 by David Kjos
TrackBack URL: 
Share this post: Buffer
Email Print
Posted in: Augustus Toplady · Complete Works of Augustus Toplady · Lord’s Day

← Previous · Home · Next →



Who Is Jesus?


The Gospel
What It Means to Be a Christian


Norma Normata
What I Believe


Westminster Bookstore


Comments on this post are closed. If you have a question or comment concerning this post, feel free to email me.