Behold, O Lord, Your Church’s Pain

Inspiration: Psalm 74; Romans 7:25

Meter: 87 87 D

Text: © 2014

Music: Lacrimae, © 2015

Behold, O Lord, Your church’s pain,
Her labor, toil, and sadness
Because Your Word men sore disdain
And do so with great gladness.
How long, O Lord?
Defend Your Word!
This is our greatest sorrow
That evil men,
With mouth and pen,
Your precious Word do harrow!

How often we their voices hear
Within Your sanctuaries
Where they destructive words bring near.
They are Your adversaries!
Your Word they break!
In vain they take
Your Name by teaching error!
They thus cut down
And thus uncrown
Your holy standard Bearer!

Your Word proclaims what You have done
For us and our salvation:
Your dearest One, Your only Son
You sent by incarnation;
He died for us
Upon the cross,
For our offenses dying;
He death destroyed,
Left His grave void—
This for our justifying.

This Word men cast away like dross,
But it’s our greatest treasure.
We’d rather suffer ev’ry loss
Than loose our Christ, our Treasure!
Our Lord both lives
And armor gives
That ne’er a foe shall harm us,
And, with the Sword
Of His Pure Word,
He deigns so well to arm us!

Arise, O God, and hear our pleas!
Defend Your Word, we pray You,
For foolish men do as they please,
And daily they deny You!
Do not forget
And do not let
This tumult win, who’s rav’nous!
Recall, O Lord,
How Your Son poured
His blood to buy and save us!