Providence Church Good Friday Service

Friday, April 10th, 2020, 6:00 p.m.

 

“But I, when I am lifted up from the earth, will draw all men to myself.”

“I have come into the world as a light, so that no one who believes in me should stay in darkness.”

(John 12:32, 46)

 

Welcome, Prayer, Psalm 22 – Pastor Edward Brouwer

 

Opening Hymn:

When I Survey the Wondrous Cross    (Isaac Watts, 1709; Gregorian Chant, arr. L Mason, 1824)

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.

 

The Garden: Matthew 26:36-56

 

Hymn:

Jesus Paid it All            (Elvina Hall, 1865; music John Grape, 1868)

I hear the Savior say, “Your strength indeed is small,

child of weakness, watch and pray, find in me your all in all.”

Jesus paid it all, all to him I owe; sin had left a crimson stain, he washed it white as snow.

 

Lord, now indeed I find your power, and yours alone,

can change the leper’s spots, and melt the heart of stone.

Jesus paid it all, all to him I owe; sin had left a crimson stain, he washed it white as snow.

 

For nothing good have I whereby your grace to claim—

I’ll wash my garments white in the blood of Calvary’s Lamb.

Jesus paid it all, all to him I owe; sin had left a crimson stain, he washed it white as snow.

 

And when, before the throne, I stand in him complete,

“Jesus died my soul to save,” my lips shall still repeat.

Jesus paid it all, all to him I owe; sin had left a crimson stain, he washed it white as snow.

 

The Denial: Matthew 26:69-75

 

Hymn: What Wondrous Love is This              (American folk hymn)

What wondrous love is this, O my soul, O my soul, what wondrous love is this, O my soul!

What wondrous love is this that caused the Lord of bliss to bear the dreadful curse for my soul,

for my soul, to bear the dreadful curse for my soul!

 

To God and to the Lamb, I will sing, I will sing, to God and to the Lamb, I will sing;

To God and to the Lamb, who is the great I AM, while millions join the theme, I will sing,

I will sing, while millions join the them, I will sing!

 

And when from death I’m free, I’ll sing on, I’ll sing on, and when from death I’m free, I’ll sing on;

And when from death I’m free, I’ll sing and joyful be, and through eternity I’ll sing on,

I’ll sing on, and through eternity I’ll sing on!

 

The Trial: Matthew 26:57-68, 27:11-18

 

Hymn: O Sacred Head, Now Wounded          (Bernard of Clairvaux, 1091-1153; H.L. Hasler, 1601, arr. J.S. Bach, 1729)

O sacred Head, now wounded, with grief and shame weighed down;

now scornfully surrounded with thorns, thine only crown;

O sacred Head, what glory, what bliss till now was thine!

Yet, though despised and gory, I joy to call thee mine.

 

What thou, my Lord, hast suffered was all for sinners’ gain:

mine, mine was the transgression, but thine the deadly pain.

Lo, here I fall, my Savior! ‘Tis I deserve thy place;

look on me with thy favor, vouchsafe to me thy grace.

 

What language shall I borrow to thank thee, dearest Friend,

for this, thy dying sorrow, thy pity without end?

O make me thine forever; and should I fainting be,

Lord let me never, never outlive my love to thee.

 

The Crucifixion: Matthew 27:19-44

 

Hymn: How Deep the Father’s Love for Us                (Stuart Townend, 1995)

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.

 

The Death: Matthew 27:45-56

 

Hymn: Man of Sorrows! What a Name          (Philip Bliss, 1875)

Man of Sorrows! What a name for the Son of God, who came

ruined sinners to reclaim: Hallelujah! What a Savior!

 

Bearing shame and scoffing rude, in my place condemned he stood,

Sealed my pardon with his blood: Hallelujah! What a Savior!

 

Guilty, vile, and helpless, we: spotless Lamb of God was he;

Full atonement! Can it be? Hallelujah! What a Savior!

 

Lifted up was he to die, “It is finished!” was his cry.

Now in heaven exalted high: Hallelujah! What a Savior!

 

When he comes, our glorious King, all his ransomed home to bring,

Then anew this song we’ll sing: Hallelujah! What a Savior!

 

The Tomb: Matthew 27:57-66

 

Hymn: Nothing but the Blood of Jesus           (Robert Lowry, 1876)

What can wash away my sin? Nothing but the blood of Jesus;

what can make me whole again? Nothing but the blood of Jesus.

O precious is the flow that makes me white as snow; no other fount I know, nothing but the blood of Jesus.

 

Nothing can for sin atone—nothing but the blood of Jesus;

naught of good that I have done—nothing but the blood of Jesus.

O precious is the flow that makes me white as snow; no other fount I know, nothing but the blood of Jesus.

 

This is all my hope and peace—nothing but the blood of Jesus;

this is all my righteousness—nothing but the blood of Jesus.

O precious is the flow that makes me white as snow; no other fount I know, nothing but the blood of Jesus.

 

Now by this I’ll overcome—nothing but the blood of Jesus;

This is all my righteousness—nothing but the blood of Jesus.

O precious is the flow that makes me white as snow; no other fount I know, nothing but the blood of Jesus.

 

Isaiah 53:10-12, Closing Prayer: Edward Brouwer