Three Hymns for Christ the Priest

Here are three striking hymns in honour of Christ in His Priesthood:


JESUS, IN THEE OUR EYES BEHOLD

— Isaac Watts (1674-1748), Hymns and Spiritual Songs, 1707-1709.  SM (8.6.8.6.)

Jesus, in thee our eyes behold

A thousand glories more,

Than the rich gems and polished gold

The sons of Aaron wore.

They first their own burnt offerings brought,

To purge themselves from sin;

Thy life was pure without a spot,

And all thy nature clean.

Fresh blood as constant as the day

Was on their altar spilt;

But thy one offering takes away

For ever all our guilt.

Their priesthood ran through several hands,

For mortal was their race;

Thy never changing office stands

Eternal as thy days.

Once in the circuit of a year,

With blood, but not his own,

Aaron within the veil appears

Before the golden throne:

But Christ, by his own powerful blood,

Ascends above the skies,

And in the presence of our God

Shows his own sacrifice.

Jesus, the King of glory, reigns

On Zion’s heav’nly hill;

Looks like a lamb that has been slain,

And wears his priesthood still.

He ever lives to intercede

Before his Father’s face:

Give him, my soul, thy cause to plead,

Nor doubt the Father’s grace.


WHERE HIGH THE HEAVENLY TEMPLE STANDS (cf. Heb 4:14-16)

— Attr. Michael Bruce, c. 1764; Scottish Paraphrases, 1781.  LM (8.8.8.8.)

Where high the heavenly temple stands,

The house of God not made with hands,

A great High Priest our nature wears,

The Guardian of mankind appears.

He Who for men their Surety stood,

And poured on earth his precious blood,

Pursues in Heaven his mighty plan,

The Saviour and the Friend of man.

Though now ascended up on high,

He bends on earth a brother’s eye;

Partaker of the human name,

He knows the frailty of our frame.

Our fellow Sufferer yet retains

A fellow feeling of our pains:

And still remembers in the skies

His tears, his agonies, and cries.

In every pang that rends the heart,

The Man of Sorrows had a part,

He sympathizes with our grief,

And to the sufferer sends relief.

With boldness, therefore, at the throne,

Let us make all our sorrows known;

And ask the aids of heavenly power

To help us in the evil hour.


VICTIM DIVINE, THY GRACE WE CLAIM

— Charles Wesley (1707-1788), Hymns on the Lord’s Supper, 1745.

Victim Divine, thy grace we claim,

While thus thy precious death we show:

Once offered up a spotless Lamb,

In thy great temple here below,

Thou didst for all mankind atone,

And standest now before the throne.

Thou standest in the holy place,

As now for guilty sinners slain;

The blood of sprinkling speaks, and prays,

All prevalent for helpless man;

Thy blood is still our ransom found,

And speaks salvation all around.

The smoke of thy atonement here

Darkened the sun, and rent the veil,

Made the new way to Heaven appear,

And showed the great Invisible;

Well pleased in thee, our God looked down,

And calls his rebels to a crown.

He still respects thy sacrifice;

Its savour sweet doth always please:

The offering smokes through earth and skies,

Diffusing life, and joy, and peace;

To these, thy lower courts, it comes,

And fills them with divine perfumes.

 We need not now go up to Heaven,

To bring the long sought Saviour down;

Thou art to all already given,

Thou dost e’en now thy banquet crown:

To every faithful soul appear,

And show thy real presence here!