Today’s hymn
from Sing Praise is ‘Jesus, in your life we see you’ by Basil Bridge. Each of
the three verses addresses Jesus. In the first verse he is addressed as the one
who in his earthly life used physical touch to bring hope and healing and his
words to set captives free, but who in the end suffered rejection and death. In the second and third verses he is
addressed as ‘Risen Lord’, but the risen lord who retains wounds of the cross
in his body as a sign that he continues to share the sufferings of the present time,
including (as listed here) greed, exploitation, addiction and heartbreak. The
final verse asks him to use us in his service and offer his divine compassion
to those in need; although as John pointed out in introducing the hymn, it
doesn’t explicitly pray for Jesus to act and heal people.
The hymn is set
in the book to the Welsh hymn tune Ebenezer, though John used a Russian tune
called Stenka Razin (who apparently was the leader of a unsuccessful 17th
century peasant rebellion in Russia).
Personally I preferred the Welsh tune, perhaps because the minor key
fits the theme of suffering.
‘Compassion in Conflict’, a war memorial by Andrew Edwards in Maghull, Lancs. Photo (c) Rodhullandemu, Creative Commons-SA-4.0
Today’s hymn
is “The touching place” by John Bell and Graham Maule, also known by its first
line “Christ’s is the world in which we move”. It’s a sort of lament for the
many ways in which people suffer, and the Christian response to their need.
The first
verse sets the tone for the rest: the world and its people belong to Christ, so
it is his voice calling us to care, and (if we feel the task is too great) he
is the one who “meets us here”. The
remaining verses list the many forms of suffering that, with Christ, we may
feel called to address. As with many of John Bell’s lyrics, he uses some unconventional
and memorable phrases: “strange or bereaved or never employed”, “the women whom
men have defiled”, “the baby for whom there’s no breast”, “the lonely heart,
conscious of sin, which longs to be pure but fears to begin”. What all these people have in common – and between
them probably cover nearly everyone at some time in their life – is that we are
called to “feel for them”, to have empathy.
The chorus
is equally memorable in its wording, and using only a slight variant of the
tune of the verses: “To the lost Christ shows his face, to the unloved he gives
his embrace, to those who cry in pain or disgrace, Christ makes with his
friends a touching place”. “With his friends”
is important: we should both pray for Christ’s compassionate help for those in distress,
and do what we can for them in our circumstances.
Writing this
later in the day after seeing John’s use of the hymn in morning prayer, may I
express a bit of surprise at the brisk pace at which he took it. When we’ve sung this hymn in my own church,
the music director always directs a slow pace to match the emotional burden of
the words.
Today’s hymn from Sing Praise is “Beauty for Brokenness” by Graham Kendrick. I’m not sure whether this song was written specifically for the development charity Tearfund, but it was published around the time of their 25th anniversary and they certainly adopted it as being a perfect description of their work and their theological stance.
Let’s look
at the chorus first, which to save the song being overly long is usually sung
after the second, fourth and fifth verses only. “God of the poor, friend of the
weak, give us compassion we pray”. That is Tearfund in a nutshell: supporting churches
around the world to respond to the needs of the poor and weak in their
communities, with the love of God and the compassion that can only really be
shown by those who live alongside them.
It goes on, “melt
our cold hearts, let tears fall like rain, come change our love from a spark to
a flame”. I admit to feeling ‘compassion fatigue’, the thought that all the
money, time and prayers I have given over the years to the work of Tearfund and
similar agencies is in vain, when there is still so much need, so much discrimination
and structural injustice in the world.
But the words and works of Jesus suggest that however little we achieve,
it is still recognised by God: “whatever you do for the least of these, you do
for me”.
The first of
the five verses starts with the vision of what development work can achieve: “Beauty
for brokenness, hope for despair”. It’s not just about the day-to-day
practicalities that follow (“bread for the children”) but about a message of the
hope of God’s kingdom that can transform lives. “Sunrise to sunset, your
kingdom increase”.
The second
verse reflects the reality that war is behind much suffering: “Refuge from
cruel wars, havens from fear, cities for sanctuary, freedoms to share, peace to
the killing fields, scorched earth to green”, but finishes with a specifically
religious vision, “Christ for the bitterness, his cross for their pain”.
The third
verse speaks of medical work and provision of training and trade opportunities
and land for farming, programmes that help local communities become
self-sufficient, and also the advocacy work that forms much of Tearfund’s success
(“voices to plead the cause of those who can’t speak”).
The fourth
verse speaks of the ecological emergency that has only become a mainstream
concern in the last few years, though the song was written in 1993. “Rest for
the ravaged earth, oceans and streams, plundered and poisoned, our future, our
dreams”. We pray “Lord, end this madness, carelessness, greed, make us content
with the things that we need”.
The final
verse turns clearly to Jesus who is the only one who can truly change the
world. “Lighten our darkness, breathe on this flame, until your justice burns
brightly again, until the nations learn of your ways, seek your salvation and
bring you their praise”. If verse 4 could have been written by Greta Thunberg,
verse 5 could have come from the mouth of Isaiah.
You might gather from this lengthy commentary that this is one of my favourite hymns, for the music as well as the words. It deserves the classic status it has won in the churches. If you wish to donate to the work of Tearfund, they are currently appealing for support for their work in Afghanistan and you can donate here.
If this is your first viewing, please see my Introduction before reading this.
23 December. John chapters 13-15
Here we have Jesus’ final speech to his disciples, in the course of which he washes their feet to demonstrate that his way of loving and saving people begins with serving their practical needs. There is much that could be said about any small part of this important speech, but I will start with one verse – “Very truly, I tell you, whoever receives one whom I send receives me; and whoever receives me receives him who sent me” (13:20).
It reminds me at this Christmas season of another verse from the beginning of John’s Gospel which is traditionally read on Christmas Eve – “To all who received him, who believed in his name, he gave power to become children of God” (1:12). Put the logic of those verses together in the right order, and whoever “receives one whom I send” (any Christian proclaiming Jesus) can “become a child of God”.
What makes Christianity different from many other religions and philosophies is that it is not really about believing certain things about God and the world, and even less about how we behave (although neither of those is unimportant). Principally, to be a Christian is to receive Jesus, who became flesh for us, in our bodies as well as our minds, and this is never something done in isolation, it is equally about becoming part of the community of other believers, which started with the eleven faithful disciples at the Last Supper, and now numbers hundreds of millions around the world.
The act of receiving Jesus has variously been expressed in different ways – “inviting Jesus into your life”, “turning to Jesus”, “being born again” (see my blog for 18 December). It is symbolised in the one-off act of being baptised, and is also part of the repeated symbolism of the Eucharist or Mass, in which some people will share at Christmas if at no other time of year. By eating a piece of the broken and shared bread that represents Jesus’ body offered in sacrifice for us, we become part of the “body” of Christians. Even if, with most protestant/evangelical Christians, you don’t believe that the bread literally becomes Christ’s flesh, it is still a reminder of that holy and sinless body that first appeared on earth about 2020 years ago in Bethlehem.
This dual emphasis on both the physicality of Jesus’ incarnation and our relationship with him, and on the act of serving others as the proof of sharing in his love, is why at this time of year individual Christians and congregations often make more effort than usual to attend to the needs of those around them. It might be inviting lonely people for a festive meal, singing carols in care homes, opening the church building as a shelter for homeless people on winter nights, or giving food and clothing through local foodbanks and charities that work with people living in poverty. Of course people of other religions or none do the same – compassion is a human instinct. But where these acts of charity and compassion are motivated by the love of Jesus, there is also the offer to those being served of becoming part of the Body of Christ themselves. “whoever receives one whom I send receives me; and whoever receives me receives him who sent me”.
If this is your first viewing, please see my Introduction before reading this.
4 November. Matthew chapters 27-28
These last two chapters of the Gospel cover Matthew’s version of the most important events of the whole Bible – the death and resurrection of Jesus. What can I add to the volumes that have been written about those world-changing three days?
Let’s consider the attitudes towards Jesus of the people who encountered him. Firstly those who responded negatively. Firstly, the “chief priests and elders” (27:20) who whipped up the emotions of the crowd to have Jesus crucified, even though Pilate was minded to release him. Those same priests and elders panicked, if Matthew’s account is to be believed, on Easter day when the report of the resurrection reached them: like most politicians whose judgements have been proved wrong, rather than admitting their mistake they turned to bribery and false reporting in order to suppress the truth (28:12-14).
Then there were the soldiers who mocked him, made him (and Simon) carry the cross, gambled for his clothing as he hung dying. And the two bandits hung alongside him who, along with the soldiers and passers-by, taunted him to perform one last miracle by coning down from the cross – just as he had been tempted by the Devil in the desert to perform miracles for the sake of his own health and popularity. And of course the crowd, who would go along with whatever the religious leaders said.
Two key players changed their mind in all the confusion of the proceedings of Holy Week: Pilate who seemed to believe Jesus was innocent, but was not prepared to risk his own reputation in Rome by letting a riot begin because of it; and Judas, who repented of his betrayal. But for him it was too late.
But among other observers were individuals who bucked the trend, who had the courage to ignore popular opinion and believe that Jesus was worth respect, who had at least the common humanity which cannot ignore another person in distress. These few made all the difference.
There was Pilate’s wife, who because of a presumably God-given dream (what was it, we wonder?) was convinced of Jesus’ innocence (27:19) – but her word was not enough to turn Pontius from his course. There were the unnamed bystanders who twice offered him wine (presumably as a feeble attempt at anaesthetising his pain – which he refused). There were his own mother, the mothers of some of his disciples and “many other women” who endured the mental torment of watching him and the two thieves die in agony, because they believed in Jesus to the end. Hats off to Joseph of Arimathea: he had the courage to believe in Jesus’ right to a respectful burial, to ask for his bloodied body, and to risk ritual uncleanness by handling it. The two Marys (Magdalen, and the mother of James and Joseph) also were willing to start embalming the body, and to come back at first light after the Sabbath to continue despite knowing the sealed tombstone would be almost impossible to move. If they had not done so, would they have witnessed the most incredible sight ever?
Maybe these people had been in the crowd when Jesus told the parable of the Good Samaritan, and remembered that showing mercy to someone in great difficulty (irrespective of their gender, ethnicity, beliefs or what got them into difficulty) is a sign of love for God as well a neighbour. Maybe they were also there when he said “blessed are the merciful, for they shall obtain mercy”. For it is easy – I will admit to it myself – to walk past when someone is in trouble, especially if they are not like us. It is not difficult to agree with the principle that we are all brothers and sisters in this life and we need to help each other. But it is far more difficult to put it into practice. Thank God for those who do, and especially for those who helped Jesus and showed him respect in both life and death.
If this is your first viewing, please see my Introduction before reading this, and the introduction to the Psalms for this book of the Bible in particular.
16 July. Psalms 103-105
Going through the psalms we have seen how they cover a wide range of human experience, sometimes calling on God in desperation for his help, sometimes invoking his vengeance against enemies, and in between thanking him for his goodness. But these three psalms are pure concentrated praise, a setting aside of all personal concerns to focus on the nature and acts of our Creator.
They are best read, I think, I the order 104-103-105, for this then mirrors the pattern of the days of creation in Genesis, and also the modern understanding of evolution and human history.
Psalm 104 considers the relationship God has with the creation as a whole: sun and moon, the earth as a whole, its mountains and oceans, its plants and animals, its weather patterns. The harmony of the whole is portrayed here: each species has its natural habitat, they respond to the times and seasons, even “acts of God” such as earthquakes and lightning have their place in the natural order. We forget at our peril that all this is God’s creation, and intended to work in harmony. It is not to be exploited by mankind beyond what we need for our food and shelter.
Psalm 103 celebrates God’s relationship with men and women as individuals. We are exhorted not to forget all God’s “benefits”. What are those? Healing, forgiveness, redemption, love and mercy for a start (v.2-4). If that were not enough, added to the list are vindication, justice, grace and compassion (v.6-13). Why does God shower all these blessings on us? The answer is in verse 14: “For he knows how we were made; he remembers that we are dust”. The one who made us, and knows how weak we are, how short our life in the context of eternity, how small we are in the context of the universe, will give us every help he possibly can – even when we have messed things up “by our own deliberate fault” as the prayer book puts it.
Psalm 105 goes on to describe the way God works with human society. It focuses, as so many books in the Hebrew bible, on God’s covenant with Abraham and subsequent Exodus from Egypt, that defining moment when God used every power at his disposal, from natural plagues and floods to miraculous provision of light, food and water, to rescue the Israelites (the forerunners of the Jews). But the Jews were not the “chosen people” only for their own sake. They were the tribes to whom God had given the special responsibility for bearing the good news of his love from one generation to the next until all humankind could hear it.
So in these three songs of praise we have the fullness of God’s relationship with creation, with humanity in particular, and most of all with those sent to proclaim his love to his creation. Bless the Lord, O my soul!
If this is your first viewing, please see my Introduction before reading this.
20 June. Obadiah
One of the shortest books in the Bible, Obadiah is a prophesy of woe against Edom followed by one of the restoration of Israel. The point of the woe seems to be that Edom (the tribe of Easu, Joseph’s brother) was part of the wider Abrahamic family, and although not counted among the twelve tribes of Israel should have at least offered more than mere human rights to their brothers. But in fact they had “gloated over your brother on the day of his misfortune”, “looted his goods on the day of his calamity”, and “stood at the crossings to cut off his fugitives” (12-14). For that God would punish them severely, so that their land would forever be desolate.
The relevance of this today is surely that there is much violence in the world between rival ethnic or religious groups, but that between any combination of Christians, Jews and Muslims who share the common monotheistic faith of Abraham, or between Semites and Arabs who share a common ethnic heritage, is especially heinous. How can one group of people fail to help those in need who share their origins, or treat as enemies those who also believe in the same God of mercy? Which is why each of us needs to examine our own actions and attitudes. For the reference to “standing at the crossings to cut off fugitives” reminds us of the need for great compassion for our fellow humans, many of them sharing our faith, who are fleeing from Syria and other countries across the sea to Europe. God will judge us like the Edomites if we do not help them.
