"Who is This?" -- A hymn

I realize I have been extremely poor at blogging lately. The only excuse I can make is a decided lack of time. Even now, I should be studying for my topology exam on Friday night, but there is a hymn I want to share very badly, so I'll get right onto it.

The hymn is called "Who is This (So Weak and Helpless)?" and it is lyrically magnificent (I must also put a plug in for Sandra McCracken's performance of it on the Indelible Grace IV: Beams of Heaven CD...it's wonderful). This is one of the most profoundly Christological hymns that I can think of, and lays out quite clearly the idea of the infinite almighty God taking on human flesh, that the man "who hangeth dying while the rude world scoffs and scorns" is, in fact, "the God who ever liveth 'mid the shining ones on high"; the man "despised, rejected, mocked, insulted, beaten, bound" is our God, who "shall smite in righteous judgment all His foes beneath His throne." The way the first half of each verse describes a limitation of the human and the second half of the verse so clearly illustrates the way in which our God is so utterly perfect is one fantastic example of why I love hymns so much, and what deep theology we're NOT learning from much (though not all) of what is being written and sung today.

Who Is This (So Weak and Helpless)?
By William W. How

Who is this so weak and helpless, Child of lowly Hebrew maid,
Rudely in a stable sheltered, coldly in a manger laid?
’Tis the Lord of all creation, who this wondrous path hath trod;
He is God from everlasting, and to everlasting God.

Who is this, a Man of sorrows, walking sadly life’s hard way,
Homeless, weary, sighing, weeping, over sin and Satan’s sway?
’Tis our God, our glorious Savior, who above the starry sky
Now for us a place prepareth, where no tear can dim the eye.

Who is this? Behold Him shedding drops of blood upon the ground!
Who is this, despised, rejected, mocked, insulted, beaten, bound?
’Tis our God, who gifts and graces on His church now poureth down;
Who shall smite in righteous judgment all His foes beneath His throne.

Who is this that hangeth dying while the rude world scoffs and scorns,
Numbered with the malefactors, torn with nails, and crowned with thorns?
’Tis the God Who ever liveth, ’mid the shining ones on high,
In the glorious golden city, reigning everlastingly.