The happiness of the church, or, A description of those spiritual prerogatives wherewith Christ…The happines of the church, or, A description of those spirituall prerogatiues vvherewith Christ…

7. Sin, which God so loathed, that he could not save his own elect because of it, but by killing his own Sonne. It is such a disease, that nothing but the blood of the Son of God could cure it. He cured us by taking the receipts himself which we should have taken. He is first cast into a Sweat; such a sweat as never man but he felt; when the bubbles were drops of blood. Would not sweating serve? he comes to incision, they pierce his hands, his feet, his sides; and set life it self ⟨p. 85⟩abroach. He must take a potion too, as bitter as their malice could make it; compounded of vinegar & gall. And lastly he must take a stranger and stronger medicine then all the rest; he must die for our sins. Behold his harmless hands pierced for the sins, our harmful hands had committed. His undefiled feet, that never stood in the ways of evil, nailed for the errors of our paths. He is spitted on, to purge away our uncleanness: clad in scornful Robes to cover our wickedness: whipped, that we might escape everlasting scourges. He would thirst, that our souls might be satisfied: the Eternal would die, that we might not die eternally. He is content to bear all his Fathers wrath; that no pang of that burden might be imposed upon us: and seem as forsaken a while, that we by him might be received for ever. Behold his side become bloody, his heart dry, his face pale, his arms stiff; after that the stream of blood had ran down to his wounded feet. O think if ever man felt sorrow like him; or if he felt any sorrow but for Sin.

7. Sinne, which God so loathed, that hee could not saue his owne elect because of it, but by killing his owne Sonne. It is such a disease, that nothing but the bloud of the Sonne of God could cure it. He cured vs by taking the receits himselfe which we should haue taken. He is first cast into a Sweat; such a sweat as neuer man but he felt; when the bubbles were droppes of bloud. Would not sweating serue? he comes to incision, they pierce his hands, his feete, his sides; and set life it selfe ⟨p. 85⟩abroach. Hee must take a potion too, as bitter as their malice could make it; compounded of vineger & gall. And lastly he must take a stranger and stronger medicine then all the rest; he must die for our sinnes. Behold his harmles hands pierced for the sinnes, our harmefull hands had committed. His vndefiled feete, that neuer stood in the wayes of euill, nailed for the errors of our pathes. Hee is spitted on, to purge away our vncleannesse: clad in scornefull Robes to couer our wickednesse: whipped, that we might escape euerlasting scourges. He would thirst, that our soules might be satisfied: the Eternall would die, that we might not die eternally. He is content to beare all his Fathers wrath; that no pang of that burden might be imposed vppon vs: and seeme as forsaken a while, that we by him might be receiued for euer. Behold his side become bloudie, his heart dry, his face pale, his armes stiffe; after that the streame of bloud had ran downe to his wounded feet. O thinke if euer man felt sorrow like him; or if he felt any sorrow but for Sinne.