behold the man

How deep the Father's love for us,

How vast beyond all measure

That He should give His only Son

To make a wretch His treasure.

How great the pain of searing loss,

The Father turns His face away

As wounds which mar the chosen One,

Bring many sons to glory.

Behold the Man upon a cross,

My sin upon His shoulders

Ashamed I hear my mocking voice,

Call out among the scoffers.

It was my sin that held Him there

Until it was accomplished.

His dying breath has brought me life

I know that it is finished.

I will not boast in anything-

No gifts, no power, no wisdom;

But I will boast in Jesus Christ,

His death and resurrection.

Why should I gain from His reward?

I cannot give an answer;

But this I know with all my heart

His wounds have paid my ransom.