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WHEN I SURVEY THE WONDROUS CROSS

by Isaac Watts

When I survey the wondrous cross
On which the Prince of glory died,
My richest gain I count but loss,
And pour contempt on all my pride.

Forbid it, Lord, that I should boast,
Save in the death of Christ my God!
All the vain things that charm me most,
I sacrifice them to His blood.

See from His head, His hands, His feet,
Sorrow and love flow mingled down!
Did e’er such love and sorrow meet,
Or thorns compose so rich a crown?

Were the whole realm of nature mine,
That were a present far too small;
Love so amazing, so divine,
Demands my soul, my life, my all.

In these reflections I intend to begin with a few general comments to introduce the hymn, and then simply put the lyrics in words most of us will more readily understand.  My goal isn’t as much commentary as it is reflection, meditation, and devotion.  You can listen to a wonderful version of it here.  I might suggest listening once before you read, and then once when you’re finished, but you decide!

To “survey the wondrous cross” is to “consider it carefully, to view it with more particular and deliberate attention than merely to look or see, to consider it comprehensively, that is, to consider it from every imaginable angle (paraphrased from Webster’s 1828 and 2nd Collegiate Dictionaries).  

This entire hymn is a survey of the wondrous cross, that is, the cross of Jesus which causes us to wonder (admiration mingled with unexpected and inexplicable beauty).  To behold the cross of Christ with anything less than wonder is not to behold it at all.  So let’s “translate” the hymn itself and plumb the depths of its wonders and beauty:

• When I survey the wondrous cross
  On which the Prince of glory died,
  My richest gain I count but loss,
  And pour contempt on all my pride.

When I take the measure, the full breadth, length, and width of what Christ accomplished at Calvary, I am filled with wonder, awe, and admiration.  On this very cross Jesus–the Prince of Glory–died.  Gave up His own perfect, sinless life.  When I gaze intently at this cross all of my own accomplishments fade into mist, into nothingness.  What’s more, all that I would boast of, all my puffing up and self-congratulation, my self-importance and achievements–all those things I used to raise myself up in my own eyes and set myself apart from others–now, gazing upon them in the pure light of the cross, I see them for the frail and paltry things they really are.  All that I am fondest of in this life–my gifts, virtues, possessions; my family, neighbors, friends–all of it falls by the wayside before the cross of Jesus, all of it would fail to fill a thimble at the bottom of that cross.  

• Forbid it, Lord, that I should boast,
  Save in the death of Christ my God!
  All the vain things that charm me most,
  I sacrifice them to His blood.

Lord, if I ever even begin to boast of anything, get in my way, obstruct me, prevent me from even entertaining such thoughts.  If I even begin to do so, let me instead boast in the death of Christ, for He is my God.  Let me take all those things I once boasted of, all those vain, useless, empty things that cast a spell over my thoughts leading to think more highly of myself than was right or good or true, all those thoughts that charmed me and made me drowsy in soul–all these things I cast down at the foot of that wondrous cross where Jesus’ precious blood pools on the ground.  Every one of those thoughts needs to be covered and cleansed so that the charm of sin may be broken and they can be seen for what they are.  I don’t run or hide or deny those thoughts, I name them and relinquish them, I hand them over, I lay them down at the foot of that cross and resolve to cherish them no longer.

• See from His head, His hands, His feet,
  Sorrow and love flow mingled down!
  Did e’er such love and sorrow meet,
  Or thorns compose so rich a crown?

See–look, behold–in that very blood of Jesus is far more than blood, is sorrow and sadness–but sorrow and sadness over what?  Over sin, certainly, but also over hatred, envy, selfishness, pride; over disease, estrangement, conflict and resentment; over lack of faith, misdirected ambitions and hopes, and disordered love–the failure of all we were meant for and all that was intended for us–here, yes here in the blood of this cross, that sorrow meets great, fathomless, incomprehensible love.  Such sadness and love had never met before, but here at the cross they not only meet but overflow into one another!  Look, look!  Even the thorns of the crown of mockery cry out at the majesty, wonder, glory, and awe birthed from the mingling of this blood and sadness and love!

• Were the whole realm of nature mine,
  That were a present far too small;
  Love so amazing, so divine,
  Demands my soul, my life, my all.

Think of it!  We spend so much of our time and energy and money trying to buy land and property and even little vacations where we can spend time in far-flung places we can only dream of living in, let alone owning.  Just imagine that we owned it all!  All the mountains and seas, all the trees of the forest, the birds of the skies, the fish in the oceans; the sun, moon, and stars; the planets and nebulae, the whole vastness of space–but also all the things of earth: trees and leaves, reptiles and insects, boulders and pebbles, all the sand of the seashore … imagine–you own it all!  

Now imagine that having beheld the cross of Jesus with all its wonders and glories–this sacrifice, this love, this rich and holy blood that cleanses us from every sin and all our folly.  Now that we see this for what it truly is, we long with all our hearts to make Him an offering worthy of His sacrifice.  So we rush to take all we own, the entire universe, this world and everything in it and make it our offering of praise, worship, adoration, and thanksgiving … but alas!  All this is still a present far too small!  Love like this, so amazing, so divine—love like this we could only dream of till now. What sacrifice shall I make?  What sacrifice can I make? Not what I own.  Not what I possess.  Not what I have achieved or accomplished.  Not even what I have loved.  No.  What’s asked, even demanded, of me is nothing less than … all of me, my whole life, my soul, and everything we have come to own or acquire, everything we call our own.

Glorious are You, Lord Christ!  To You be honor and glory, now and forever!