Glory of the Cross

It is written that you left everything That you emptied yourself of all I find in this so dangerous a meaning But it explains the significance of the fall It explains the value of my worth Something I tremble to believe, muchless Proclaim about the sinner from birth I'm immense with an inexplicable vastness Of sweet uncomprehended happiness. I am multiplied in joy and senselessness. You Creator and sustainer of all the universe Should you stop creating yet creation stays But what if the sustainer dies, I see a reverse What if the beam that holds the roof decays What a tumbling of it though the builder lives Galaxies of all: sun, moon, angels and stars, will They hold if God upon the cross like a beam gives Shall not even a conjured singularity falls still? If God should die, and the grave kept him bound How absent the world, how void and profound? Christ the Sustainer then risked all that he is Self and universe for me, his contented price To pay, knowing all I am, and I being not his By sin, he chose to pay with so vast a sacrifice And this, the Creator, who valued me, decrees Is my worth, is my total humanity's bill. So vast A reckoning brings me silent to vapour of knees For God plus the universe makes me to surpass The worth of God even, an esteem beyond grasp A model he made but I did not prior ever clasp. Now I can truly glory in the cross. Now I can do More than I know to do, for faith leaps beyond The knowledge of my heart. The cross is the clue To the image, and restores my purpose most grand For he that said esteem the other better than self In the cross gave that esteem to me voluntarily And I did not know it, but content, kept it on shelf While Darwin rewrote my meaning in vain history And I evolving in thoughts sinful inhabited its shame When the cross had already taken all my blame O Paul, you may glory true, but I more glory than All, the cross has ransomed me from the fall Uplifted, restored to the image of God, this new man Feels worthy now to stand, and I proclaim to all That Christ has ransomed me, coming back free Of death shrouds, with power over hell and grave The God of glory, by the cross of infinite liberty Lifted me from a mere creation, honor and glory gave Me as a crown, but not me more than you friend The potter waits to put your faith together again.