This song was written almost immediately after reading Dietrich
Bonheoffer’s “The Cost Of Discipleship.”
Truth be told, my first response to the closing words of that book
was to weep.
His “Letters and Papers from Prison” are also a glimpse into the
man, who he was, and how he lived and died. If you are familiar
with Bonheoffer, my response to his life and writings may come
as no surprise.
If you are not familiar with him, I would encourage you to
acquaint yourself with him as one, who by his example may
strengthen you in your walk as a disciple of Christ.
Lyrics
I know in your humility,
you would steer me to the praises of Our Father
But in the Grace that He gives us
There’s the place for the love of a brother
Not knowing if you hear these words
But they serve to stand beside your very own
As that true and faithful servant
Through which the Fathers love so very clearly shown
Death where’s thy sting
What victory hath the grave
When a life so freely given
So many more might save
And my applause is empty
Lest I fill if with my life
Counting not the cost
But rejoicing in the price
And as those that go before me
May my steps preserve the way to follow
May I live out my confession
That my religion not be hollow
And together on that coming day
We will stand and sing of Gods great mercy
And we will be as One, shining brightly as The Son
Rejoicing in our treasured purity
Death where’s thy sting
What victory hath the grave
When a life so freely given
So many more might save
And our praise will thunder
Through all Heaven and New Earth
And we will live forever
In Him who gives us birth
And the fruit of your suffering
Does give strength to encourage your brother
As the flame forever burns
Shedding light giving life one to another
And when time has run its course
And The Wisdom of The Father finds completion
I pray to find my place beside you who’ve run the race
And rejoice in the treasure of that station
Death where’s thy sting
What victory hath the grave
When a life so freely given
So many more might save
My applause is empty
Lest I fill if with my life
Counting not the cost
But rejoicing in the price