Well named “A Man of Sorrow,”
For so indeed He was;
“No sorrow like His sorrow,”
Hated, without a cause.
The Source of untold goodness,
Come down from heaven above;
Yields to our scorn and rudeness,
In condescending love.
They named Him “Friend of Sinners.”
This thrills my soul to praise;
All heavenward path beginners
Their hallelujahs raise.
Only the sick and weakly
Need the physician’s care.
The Friend of Sinners, meekly
Submits their sins to bear.
Misnamed a malefactor!
No evil did He do.
He was a benefactor!
And died for me and you.
In grace to bring us blessing,
He took our load of guilt:
Met God, our sins confessing,
For us, His blood was spilt.
Paul names Him Mediator.
Job’s Daysman now is found.
A Man, tho’ our Creator,
Upon God’s Throne sits crowned.
As God, God’s rights maintaining
From that bright throne on high;
As Man, our new place gaining,
Blest with Himself, so nigh.
His sorrows now are over,
But Friend of Sinners still,
His thoughts of kindness hover
Round those who served Him ill;
And still His meditation
Can free you from the thrall
Of Satan’s devastation:
He gave Himself—for all.
—William J. Barnes