O Sacred Head Now Wounded
History
The origins of this hymn stretch all the way back to the 12th century, when a long poem was composed about the wounds of Jesus. There are seven parts to this lengthy poem, one for each day of Holy Week. Each part focuses on a different aspect of Jesus’ suffering. The poem was intended as a long meditation on the suffering Christ and each pain point he suffered.
The exact origins of the poem are unknown, but scholars have attributed it to one of two monks: Bernard of Clairvaux or Arnulf of Leuven. Regardless of the author, the hymn has stood for centuries as a staple of Holy Week in the Roman Catholic tradition.
In the 1600s, a Lutheran hymn-writer named Paul Gerhardt extracted the part referring to the wounded head of Jesus using this now familiar name: “O Sacred Head Now Wounded.” Gerhardt is often considered one of the great Lutheran hymn-writers, after Martin Luther himself. The tune was borrowed from a secular chorale named “Passion Chorale”. The chorales of the day were often simple love songs written with singability in mind, which made them perfect for early reformed hymn-writers to use for congregational singing.
Johann Sebastian Bach, himself a devout Lutheran, used this tune in many arrangements over his career, applying the familiar theme to cultivate a response in the listeners. Most notably, it was the theme of personal reflection and meditation for his “St. Matthew Passion” oratorio.
Devotion
A hymn like this can really help us push pause on the busyness and chaos of life. Reminders like this can facilitate a perspective shift like little else can. As we focus on the specific suffering of Christ on our behalf, our own stresses and troubles seem to shrink away.
This is the gospel, in the most raw and visceral definition. This isn’t the pretty, vague allusion to new life based on God’s favor and a reciprocal prosperity. Within these words, we find the stark reminder of the penalty for sin and the fact that Christ gave himself up for us. He paid the price that we never could. The God of heaven and earth sent His own Son to give His very own body for our gain.
He was beaten, unrecognizable, mocked, accused, and given a thorn as a crown. The long spikes were driven deep into the flesh of His forehead, pressing into His very skull. And through all of that, He didn’t waver in His commitment to set us free from the bondage of sin. The King of Glory, worthy of every precious metal and jewel we can conceive of, accepted a ring of filthy thorns for His brow.
In our modern culture, we’re training ourselves to believe that everything is of the utmost importance. Our jobs are a significant priority, schoolwork is the most important thing for our teenagers, athletics and extracurriculars become the meaning of life for our children, the list goes on and on. We focus our time and money on decorating our homes, tending our lawns, saving for our next vacation, or whatever the case may be.
None of those things are inherently wrong, nor are they irredeemable. The trouble comes when we focus all of our time, energy, and resources on these things with no regard for how our faith might influence them. We go about our lives and routines wholly unaffected by the truth of Jesus’ sacrifice for our behalf.
As the second stanza reminds us: it was our transgression, our sin that deserved punishment. But it was the perfect Son of God who bore the pain. Remember that truth today. Jesus died for me and He died for you. Let that truth and that remarkable sacrifice give you a new perspective today as you embark on your routine. Meditate and reflect upon the pain of the cross, and thank God that it was Jesus who bore the sin and shame, and not you.
Related Scripture
John 19:1-3; 1 Peter 2:21-25
O Sacred Head Now Wounded lyrics
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,
and grant to me thy grace.
What language shall I borrow
to thank thee, dearest Friend,
for this, thy dying sorrow,
thy pity without end?
Oh, make me thine forever,
and should I fainting be,
Lord, let me never, never
outlive my love to thee.
Be near when I am dying,
oh, show thy cross to me,
and for my rescue, flying,
come, Lord, and set me free!
These eyes, new faith receiving,
from Jesus shall not move,
for one who dies believing
dies safely, through thy love.
The joy can never be spoken,
above all joys beside,
When in Thy body broken
I thus with safety hide.
O Lord of Life, desiring
Thy glory now to see,
Beside Thy cross expiring,
I'd breathe my soul to Thee.