How deep the Father’s love for us

Today’s hymn from Sing Praise is “How deep the Father’s love for us”.  This is a contemporary hymn from 1995 with both words and music by Stuart Townend, but both words and music seem to hark back to an earlier age. In fact, to my ears the melody bears a close resemblance to yesterday’s 19th century hymn, “Here is love, vast as the ocean”.  I would not be surprised if Townend had that one in mind when he wrote this.  

Some of the images are shared by the two hymns: the vastness of God’s love in the title (‘vast’ is not a common word nowadays), the futility of worldly power when measured against God’s love, and Christ as our ransom.  But the emphasis is different. Here it is less the extent of God’s grace and love that are praised (though they are) but the great pains Christ went through in order to deliver them. 

The words here also look behind or above the cross (spatial words are of course meaningless in respect of God, but necessary for us as that’s the way we think) to the suffering of God the Father.  He is no remote creator here, but a very present spirit with feelings for his now all-too-human Son.  “The Father turns his face away, as wounds which mar the chosen one bring many souls to glory”.

My own part in Christ’s suffering has to be acknowledged here, too. “Ashamed I hear my mocking voice call out among the scoffers” and “It was my sin that held him there, until it was accomplished”.   But at the end the singer of this hymn, as with yesterday’s, can declare “This I know with all my heart: his wounds have paid my ransom”.

Behold the Lamb of God

Today’s choice for a Lenten hymn is actually another very simple song, which as John says in his morning prayer video might be used in various ways such as in between intercessions. The text is a form of the ‘agnus dei’: “Behold the Lamb of God, Behold the Lamb of God, He takes away the sin, the sin of the world”. Those are the words of Jesus’ relative and forerunner, John the Baptiser ,as recorded in John 1:29.

I wrote a blog post on 6 February about an image of the Lamb of God. This title, one of many for Jesus in Christian history, is one that seems to have endured.   The idea of the all-powerful One becoming as weak and helpless as a baby sheep is intriguing to the outsider, and maybe comforting to small children.  From an adult perspective it is one of many apparent contradictions in our faith.  It is perhaps the end of the development of the idea of the Messiah being the ‘servant of God’ in Isaiah: a servant (or more precisely a slave) has no choice in whether or how they serve their master or mistress, as a result of which there is a strong human tendency to treat servants badly. 

The particular scandal of the image of Jesus as a Lamb is the association of lambs with the Temple sacrifices in the older form of Judaism and other religions.  So the idea that Jesus as God’s servant was forced to an excruciating and humiliating death on the cross is taken as evidence that our (Christian) concept of God is of a wrathful father punishing his servant / son as a substitute for everyone who has angered him.   That is of course a simplistic way of putting it, and the idea of atonement is more subtle and complex than that, but it’s how some humanists view Christianity and what puts them off.

There is however a second image at play when we think of the Lamb of God: that of Passover, when the blood of the sacrificed lamb is sprinkled around the doors of the Hebrews’ dwellings, not to punish but to save.  Those households alone were spared the destruction of the firstborn of Egypt, just as Jesus himself was saved from Herod’s massacre of innocent children.  For the sake of balance, and to show that the images of ‘atonement’ and ‘saviour’ are a contrast and not intended to reinforce each other, here’s an interesting view from a Jewish writer.

So taking the two images together, sacrifice for sin and sacrifice for redemption, we come closer to the Christian understanding that Jesus had to die in order that we might live.  His sacrificed body has a purpose: to “preserve our bodies and souls unto everlasting life” to use the words of the old Prayer Book communion.  These two images also frame the Lenten journey from the confession of Shrove Tuesday to the celebration of our salvation at Easter.

The Bible in a Year – 6 February

If this is your first viewing, please see my Introduction before reading this.

6 February. Leviticus chapters 16-18

The day of atonement (Yom Kippur) was originated in this desert period and is still observed by Jews to this day as a day of fasting, prayer and confession of sin.  For those not part of a religious tradition such practices may seem strange, but to those who do belong to such a tradition, they are essential elements of it, although various religions express them differently.  For Christians, the fasting element is generally less important than it is for Jews and muslims, although many Christians do observe some kind of fasting during the period of Lent (40 days before Easter).  Confession, though, is still important, for although we believe that Christ died “once for all for the forgiveness of sin” thereby putting to an end the need for any animal sacrifice, as individuals we do still keep turning away from God and need to come back to him to renew our relationship by recalling his loving mercy and seeking his pardon.