From the beginning, God’s most holy Word

Today’s hymn from Sing Praise is “From the beginning, God’s most holy Word” by Brigid Pailthorpe. It is set as six verses of four lines but John composed his own tune to turn it into three verses each of eight lines, naming the tune ‘Octuple Tens’ (eight lines of ten syllables). This structure makes more sense as the hymn neatly divides into three different understandings of ‘God’s Word’.  Unlike many hymns about the Word of God, this one is utterly realistic about the world to which Jesus came, as we shall see.

First, “From the beginning, God’s most holy Word uttered the summons all creation heard”. The Word in this sense is the creative act of God, doing rather than speaking. Christ is also referred to here as “the Word spoken”, as we understand the second person of the Trinity to be the creative power of God at work in the world, as well as incarnate in Jesus.  There’s an odd reference in the second verse (as set out in the hymn book) to God’s love that “remoulds structures that fail, the institution’s blight”.  We see that in the stories now emerging of abuse within the Church, but was the author thinking of that specifically or something wider?

Second (verses 3 & 4 in the book), “Jesus, the Word once spoken by the well” reminds us that Jesus in his incarnation revealed himself to be divine, not just by his miracles but by his spoken words, whether to the crowd of five thousand or the solitary Samaritan. The Word here “heals as in response we tell all our deep longings, all our hidden fears”. That’s another reference to the brokenness and imperfection of the world.

The last pair of verses begins with a call to “Jesus, the Word once spoken by the tomb” – by Mary Magdalene, that is – to “speak to our hearts in times of doubt and gloom”.  But it goes on to refer to our own resurrection.  Mary Magdalene, whose feast day was celebrated last week, is the archetype of the broken person who was healed and turned to follow Jesus.  We will never know what her ‘demons’ were, but Jesus got rid of them.

In his radio ‘Thought for the Day’ this morning, our own Bishop Nick Baines referred to the quotation popularly attributed to St Francis “Preach the gospel at all times. And if necessary, use words”.  He suggested that this, which may not actually have been said by Francis anyway, is misleading, because we need both demonstrations of God’s love, and words to explain it, in our witness.  The Word was made flesh to act out his Father’s love, but also to speak directly to the people of his day, broken by their own sin, the hypocrisy of their religious leaders, and the corruption and violence of the Roman empire around them. So we come to the last lines of this hymn as we offer to speak and serve in his name in our own broken world: “Here we renew our dedication vow: Word of the Father, speak your summons now”.

The Bible in a Year – 11 November

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

11 November. Mark chapter 14

Only a single chapter of the Gospel today, but one worth pondering closely.  It covers the “anointing at Bethany”, Last Supper, the arrest of Jesus and his appearance before the High Priest, and Peter’s three-fold denial.  There could hardly be a greater contrast  than in the attitudes towards Jesus of the people here.

The High Priest (Annas or Caiaphas depending which Gospel you read – they shared the role), when he asked Jesus “Are you the Messiah, the Son of the Blessed One?” (14:61), presumably had already decided in his mind that the correct answer was “no”.  So when Jesus replied “I am” (not only an answer to a closed question, but also an implied identity with God himself), the High Priest took the straight answer to be a lie, and the “I am” (and subsequent declaration that he would sit at God’s right hand and return in power) to be a blasphemy.  He must have known the reports of Jesus’ miracles and teaching, and could have drawn the obvious conclusion for himself.  So either he didn’t believe in the concept of the Messiah that he professed, or (more likely)  he was, like so many other people in power, prepared to set aside his own integrity and conscience in order to keep the status-quo.

Peter was motivated by fear and the instinct for self-preservation, rather than power and riches, when he denied Jesus not only among other men but even to a servant girl. But at least he acknowledged his failure, and we see him a few weeks later as once again Jesus’ chief disciple. As Jesus said in chapter 3 (see my commentary ), all sins are forgiveable except the sin against the Holy Spirit.  To deny that you know Jesus the Messiah is a sin but a forgiveable one.  To deny the possibility of him being the Messiah is to resist the Holy Spirit, and is (spiritually) unforgiveable, for the Spirit cannot work in such a person.

At the start of the reading we meet not a High Priest, not an apostle, but an unnamed woman (though often assumed to be Mary Magdalen).  Not only does she believe in Jesus, but is prepared to acknowledge him in an unusual way, a way that costs her dearly and attracts criticism, as she pours perfumed ointment over his head.     “She has anointed me for burial” says Jesus, but the act of anointing also acknowledges him as the true High Priest and King.  But for Jesus at that moment what probably mattered most was giving him her full attention and devotion when he was highly troubled and stressed. A woman’s touch, the scent of the nard, and her tears would have touched this most sensitive of men.   Mark, in recording this little cameo scene, obeyed what Jesus also said, “Truly I tell you, wherever the good news is proclaimed in the whole world, what she has done will be told in remembrance of her.”

So what is your reaction to the Jesus who says “I am” – by implication “I am the Messiah”, and as John records, also “I am the way, the truth and the life”.  Will you deny the possibility of the truth of those statements, or deny that you intend to follow him, or offer him your most precious belongings and your undivided attention?