A Father's Grief, a Victor's Cool Welcome (2 Samuel 18:33-19:18)

Author: 
Alan Marsden
Date: 
Sunday, 17 May, 2020 - 10:45

The Return of the King. Will any welcome Him?

Praise to the Lord

Praise to the Lord, the Almighty, the King of creation;
O my soul, praise Him, for He is thy health and salvation;
All ye who hear,
Brothers and sisters draw near,
Praise Him in glad adoration.

Praise to the Lord, who doth prosper thy work, and defend thee;
Surely His goodness and mercy here daily attend thee;
Ponder anew
What the Almighty can do,
If with His love He befriend thee.

Praise to the Lord, who, when tempests their warfare are waging,
Who, when the elements madly around thee are raging,
Biddeth them cease,
Turneth their fury to peace,
Whirlwinds and waters assuaging.

Praise to the Lord, who when darkness and sin is abounding,
Who, when the godless do triumph, all virtue confounding,
Sheddeth His light,
Chaseth the horrors of night,
Saints with His mercy surrounding.

Praise to the Lord! O let all that is in me adore Him!
All that hath life and breath, come now with praises before Him!
Let the Amen
Sound from His people again:
Gladly for aye we adore Him.

Joachim Neander

Hail Thou Once Despised Jesus

Hail, Thou once despised Jesus!
Hail, Thou Galilean King!
Thou didst suffer to release us,
Thou didst free salvation bring:
Hail, Thou agonizing Saviour:
Bearer of our sin and shame;
By Thy merits we find favour;
Life is given thro’ Thy name!

Paschal Lamb, by God appointed,
All our sins were on Thee laid;
By almighty love anointed,
Thou hast full atonement made:
All Thy people are forgiven
Through the virtue of Thy blood’
Opened is the gate of heaven:
Peace is made ‘twixt man and God.

Jesus, hail! Enthroned in glory,
There for ever to abide;
All the heavenly host adore Thee,
Seated at Thy Father’s side.
There for sinners Thou art pleading,
There Thou dost our place prepare,
Ever for us interceding,
Till in glory we appear.

Worship, honour, power, and blessing,
Thou art worthy to receive;
Loudest praises, without ceasing,
Meet it is for us to give.
Help, ye bright angelic spirits,
Bring your sweetest, noblest lays;
Help to sing our Saviour’s merits,
Help to chant Immanuel’s praise!

John Bakewell, Martin Madan

The Crowning Day

Our Lord is now rejected
And by the world disowned:
By the many still neglected,
And by the few enthroned;
But soon He’ll come in glory!
The hour is drawing nigh,
For the crowning day is coming by-and-by.

Oh, the crowning day is coming!
Is coming by-and-by,
When our Lord shall come in power
And glory from on high!
Oh! The glorious sight will gladden
Each waiting, watchful eye,
In the crowning day that’s coming by-and-by.

The heav’ns shall glow with splendour;
But brighter far than they
The saints shall shine in glory,
As Christ shall them array:
The beauty of the Saviour
Shall dazzle every eye,
In the crowning day that’s coming by-and-by.

Our pain shall then be over,
We’ll sin and sigh no more;
Behind us all of sorrow,
And naught but joy before -
A joy in our Redeemer,
As we to Him are nigh,
In the crowning day that’s coming by-and-by.

Let all that look for, hasten
The coming joyful day
By earnest consecration,
To walk the narrow way;
By gathering in the lost ones
For whom our Lord did die,
For the crowning day that’s coming by-and-by.

El Nathan

There’s light Upon the Mountains

There’s a light upon the mountains, and the day is at the spring,
When our eyes shall see the beauty and the glory of the King:
Weary was our heart with waiting, and the night-watch seemed so long;
But His triumph-day is breaking, and we hail it with a song.

In the fading of the starlight we can see the coming morn;
And the lights of men are paling in the splendours of the dawn:
For the eastern skies are glowing as with light of hidden fire,
And the hearts of men are stirring with the throbs of deep desire.

There’s a hush of expectation, and a quiet in the air;
And the breath of God is moving in the fervent breath of prayer:
For the suff’ring, dying Jesus is the Christ upon the throne,
And the travail of our spirit is the travail of His own.

He is breaking down the barriers, He is casting up the way;
He is calling for His angels to build up the gates of day:
But His angels here are human, not the shining hosts above;
For the drum-beats of His army are the heart-beats of our love.

Hark! We hear a distant music, and it comes with fuller swell;
‘Tis the triumph-song of Jesus, of our King, Immanuel:
Zion, go ye forth to meet Him; and my soul, be swift to bring
All thy sweetest and thy dearest for the triumph of the King!

H. Burton

Piano: Bill Ashton

Singing: Hilary Ashton