Who understands this mystery? Even the angels are baffled!

The Maker of the universe
As Man, for man was made a curse.
The claims of law which He had made,
Unto the uttermost He paid.

2

His holy fingers made the bough
Which grew the thorns that crowned His brow.
The nails that pierced His hands were mined
In secret places He designed.

3

He made the forest whence there sprung
The tree on which His body hung.
He died upon a cross of wood,
Yet made the hill on which it stood.

4

The sky that darkened o’er His head
By Him above the earth was spread.
The sun that hid from Him its face
By His decree was poised in space.

5

The spear which spilled His precious blood
Was tempered in the fires of God.
The grave in which His form was laid,
Was hewn in rocks His hands had made.

6

The throne on which He now appears
Was His from everlasting years.
But a new glory crowns His brow.
And every knee to Him shall bow.

“The Maker of the Universe,” lyrics by Phil Keaggy, 1986