Scripture Verse

Christ Jesus…who, being in the form of God…made Himself of no reputation, and took upon Him the form of a servant, and was made in the likeness of men, and being found in fashion as a man, He humbled Himself, and became obedient unto death, even the death of the cross. Philippians 2:5–7

Introduction

portrait
Richard W. Adams (1952–)

Words: Neil Bar­ham, 2008 (pub­lic do­main).

Music: Way­far­ing Stran­ger folk spir­it­ual. Ar­ranged by Richard W. Adams, 1998 (pub­lic do­main) (🔊 pdf nwc).

portrait
Neil Barham (1962–)

Lyrics

The call goes out from high­est Hea­ven,
From that great Voice whose vast de­cree
Calls out of no­thing all cre­ation,
And brings to birth eter­ni­ty.
Go down, My Son, go down from Hea­ven,
Bring My be­lov­èd home to Me.
Go find her, lost, aban­doned, ru­ined,
Storm-tossed in sin’s re­lent­less sea.

Now speaks the Prince of high­est Hea­ven,
Whose light no se­raph can en­dure—
Who owns the glo­ries of the God­head
By right and ti­tle all-se­cure.
Yes, I will go, go down from Hea­ven,
To find our lost, our wan­d’ring bride,
I’ll bring her home, what­e’er it cost Me—
I’ll bring her home, though I must die.

Now see Him plunge from high­est Hea­ven,
Through light-years dark, to vir­gin’s womb,
Enfleshed in dust and human weak­ness:
A bo­dy des­tined for a tomb.
A long, long way from high­est Hea­ven,
He walks the ground from which He made
The Man whose sons He has come seek­ing,
The cap­tives Sa­tan has be­trayed.

With tears He cries to high­est Hea­ven,
Lord, let this cup now pass from Me!
His blood pours down His sweat­ing fore­head;
At hor­ror’s brink, oh, what He sees!
But He sub­mits to high­est Hea­ven,
Not Mine, but Thy own will be done.
He rises, strength­ened by an an­gel:
Ahead there’s bat­tle to be won.

The migh­ty wrath of high­est Hea­ven
Falls down up­on bright Hea­ven’s Son.
A rage om­ni­po­tent and right­eous
Burns down up­on the chos­en One.
The Ene­my of high­est Hea­ven
With snarl­ing teeth and slash­ing claw,
With howls of sav­age ac­cu­sa­tion,
Calls down the curs­es of the Law!

Before the bar of high­est Hea­ven,
The Son of God con­vict­ed stands;
My guil­ty con­science burns with­in Him
Because my crimes are on His hands.
The sen­tence falls from high­est Hea­ven,
Unleashing Hell up­on His own,
The Se­cond Death con­sumes the Sac­ri­fice.
So per­fect mer­cy can be shown.

Again the Voice of high­est Hea­ven
Speaks life in­to a three-days’ grave,
And there tri­um­phant, death de­feat­ing, 1
The God-man comes, migh­ty to save!
He will re­turn from high­est Hea­ven,
Ten mill­ion an­gels in His train:
He’ll claim the blood-bought bride He ran­somed,
To love while high­est Heav’n re­mains.

1Originally, And there, tri­um­phant ov­er sin and death