When I survey the wondrous cross
On which the Prince of glory died,
My richest gain I count but loss,
And pour contempt on all my pride.
Forbid it, Lord, that I should boast,
Save in the death of Christ my God!
All the vain things that charm me most
I sacrifice them to His blood.
See from His head, His hands, His feet,
Sorrow and love flow mingled down!
Did e'er such love and sorrow meet,
Or thorns compose so rich a crown?
Were the whole realm of nature mine,
That were a present far too small,
Love so amazing, so divine,
Demands my soul, my life, my all.
'And when you were dead in trespasses and the uncircumcision of your flesh, God made you alive together with him, when he forgave us all our trespasses, erasing the record that stood against us with its legal demands. He set this aside, nailing it to the cross. He disarmed the rulers and authorities and made a public example of them, triumphing over them in it.' - Colossians 2:13-16
'So the enemies of human creation are bound and humiliated. Like the captives of war they are dragged at the chariot wheels of the victorious commander. The language is nakedly that of the imperial triumphs in Rome. But note also that the word translated 'disarmed' literally means that Christ on the cross discards, sheds, throws off the weight of the powers that enslave us. As if slipping off a garment, Christ shrugs off the leaden weight of those powers that keep us less than human. And on the cross, so too is nailed, metaphorically, the account that his death has cancelled. He has written off our debt and when we look at him nailed there, what we see is all that we owe in fear and guilt nailed up, with a red line through it.'
- From 'The Sign And The Sacrifice,' Rowan Williams