"LOST IN WONDER"-- HYMNS WE LOVE BUT DON'T UNDERSTAND (updated)

 

I love hymns. I grew up in a hymn-singing family and church, and hymns have been a part of my life ever since. My musical tastes have broadened over the years, and I enjoy contemporary music of different kinds. There's plenty of newer music that I find enjoyable and edifying, although I admit I'm not comfortable with everything passing as Christian music. I lead singing in our small church, and most of what we sing comes right out of the hymnal. We're not hymno-centric because I'm contempo-phobic. We simply don't have musicians who could perform contemporary music in way that most of our people would find enjoyable and edifying.

This post is not about "worship wars," the nearly nuclear conflict over traditional versus contemporary musical styles. It's about an ironic contradiction that afflicts hymn lovers: we love hymns because of their depth of meaning, but all too often we don't know what the hymns actually mean.

Hymns are often loved for being rich in theology and profound in expression. A true hymn is definately not one of those "Seven-Eleven" songs, the pejorative name for a ditty where the same seven words are supposedly repeated eleven times. And not everything in a hymnal is a hymn, at least in the more traditional sense of the word. A lot of gospel songs from the early 20th century are now thought of as hymns. But if you listen closely to some of those melodies, they sound more like waltzes and carnival tunes. I know some of those are precious to some people, but when I speak of hymns, I'm thinking of songs like "Holy, Holy, Holy," "Amazing Grace," "The Solid Rock," as well as relatively newer works such as "Tell Out, My Soul" and the wonderful stream of new hymns produced by Keith & Kristyn Getty.

But there's a little acknowledged problem that many hymn lovers have: too often we don't really understand what we're singing. As a worship leader, I've seen this irony many times. Occasionally I'll vex our patient pianist by interrupting a hymn in between stanzas and ask the congregation, "What does that next line mean?" It's surprising how often dear Christians who've sung hymns upwards of half a century have little or no idea what some oft-sung line is saying.  Here are some examples:

1) "Rock of Ages." I love the profoundly deep line, "Let the water and the blood from Thy riven side which flowed be of sin the double cure: save from wrath and make me pure." That's good stuff, but the goodness is somewhat lost on you if you don't understand the dense poetry. The point is that the blood of Jesus is so strong it doubly cures us. It both satisfies the wrath of God against our sins, and it also cleanses our souls and makes us pure.

2) "O For a Thousand Tongues to Sing." Many don't know that the opening line of this Charles Wesley hymn was inspired by a church meeting that the Wesley's spent with the Moravians. During a time of testimony, a Moravian scholar exclaimed, "Had I a thousand tongues, I would praise Him with them all." Thus it's not, as some might think, a song about the joys of a mass choir or being part of a mega church. There's also the profound line, "He breaks the power of canceled sin." Ask your average hymn lover what that means, and you might get a pretty blank stare. It means that Christ Jesus has not only canceled the judgment against us for our sins, but He's also broken the back of its power in the lives of those who know Him as Savior and Lord.

3) "O Worship the King." Here's another favorite of mine, but there's a stanza in the middle of it that leaves a lot of congregants with itchy brains: "His chariots of wrath the deep thunder clouds form, and dark is His path on the wings of the storm" What does that mean? Is God judging us everytime we get a thunder storm? In this case, the hymn is adapting lines from Psalm 18:6-19 where David celebrates how God had rescued him from great opposition. David describes that deliverance in highly poetic fashion, depicting God as flying on the clouds, shooting out lightening from His fingertips as He went out to battle for him. The hymn's line is rich and thoroughly biblical, but it's ironic that most worshippers have little idea what those lines are about.

We miss out on meaning to our own poverty. Of course, there will always be lines that evade our understanding, especially if it's the first time we're exposed to them. One of the beautiful things about hymns is that they can force contemplation. If you're interested enough, you'll meditate on it and seek to uncover its meaning. This dynamic is at work in the poety of the Bible as well. Portions of the Psalms and Proverbs are often dense in wording and they don't yield their meaning right away. But when we sing songs so often that we no longer think about what's being said, we're really missing out.

There are some instances where it might be a good thing that the words are not understood, at least from the perspective that we don't want to teach people erroneous or false doctrine. Yes, there are hymns that are doctrinally wrong, and some of them are downright heretical. Just because its in the hymnal doesn't mean it's taught in the Bible. I'll give just a few examples (though there name is Legion), and I'll end with one that's most glaring. Some Christians will take issue with my first two examples, but the last one is so egregious that I think all should agree.

1) "The Church's One Foundation." There's much to love about this hymn, and it it certainly deserves a place in hymnals amongst the free churches (e.g., Baptists, Bible churches, community churches, etc.). But there's a theological glitch that's often missed. The author, Samuel Stone, was a godly Anglican, but Anglican ecclesiology is different in some important points from the theology of free churches. In particular, Stone believed in the "Communion of Saints," a doctrine which teaches that Christians on earth enjoy some kind of fellowship with saints in heaven. This doctrine is behind the line, "The Church on earth hath union with God the Three-in-One, and mystic sweet communion with those whose rest is won."  Believers in heaven are those who have "won" or received their reward by God's grace, and the song states that there's some sort of mystic communion to be had with them as we worship. Most worshippers sing this line quite merrily with no idea of what it means. I don't categorize this teaching as heresy per se (although some forms of it are, I believe), but it's certainly different from what we teach in most of our Evangelical churches. We have union with the saints in heaven, but we don't yet enjoy communion with them, whether mystic or otherwise.

2) "Love Divine, All Loves Excelling." There's much to love about this hymn, too. But if you know the theological perspectives of the author, the words take on a whole new and troubling force. The Wesleys were known for teaching Christian Perfectionism, the idea that a Christian could receive a second work of grace in this life which would render him sinless. This idea appears repeatedly in the hymn. As early as the late 1700's, hymnals edited the lines to make them more palatable to non-Methodists. Depending on what hymnal you have, you might be singing a version of the song laden with perfectionist teachings and not realize it.

3) "The Battle Hymn of the Republic." Who doesn't like the rhythmic marching melody of this Civil War song. It has great patriotic value, of course, and its lines are beautifully written and dense with meaning. But, frankly, we should stop singing it in churches. I never select it anymore because it's so wrong theologically. The authoress, Julia Ward Howe, was an uber-political activist, the kind of religious activist who abandons the verbal proclamation of the Gospel for social action instead. Her activism seems to have been motivated in part by post-millennial theology. She saw the Union army as the instrument of God's judgment to cleanse the land and potentially usher in the Kingdom. She thought God was marching with Lincoln's forces to punish the iniquities of the Confederacy. Of course, God providentially brought the North to victory, but the story of the conquest was not one of the saints marching in. I've tried taking poetic liberty to apply these lines in different ways, but it's a vain effort. I love the music, poetry, and patriotic value of the song. But in my opinion, it's not fit for Christian worship.

It bothers me that some--dare I say most--Christians who have been worshipping the Lord with hymns for many decades are largely unware of this problem of singing without understanding. Worship leaders and pastors have often failed to educate congregants on the meaning of the lines, and there's a larger, societal problem of ever-weakening education. Many people nowadays simply don't know how to interpret poetry very well, especially if it's couched in archaic terminology. Many churches have given up the ghost in this battle and have adopted entirely contemporary formats of worship. Again, I'm not championing any particular musical style. But I think there's too much to be lost by our abandoning hymns completely.

I said at the beginning that this blog was not going to be about about worship wars, and I meant it. But I have to mention one thing. Those of us who love hymns can be guilty of secret pride, a pride that looks down on non-hymn lovers as those who are "missing out" on the great truths found in hymns. But if we ourselves don't really understand the lines of the songs--songs that we've perhaps sung for decades--isn't our pride shown to be hollow? And even if we fully understand everything we sing, that's no license for pride either. While I believe that today's Christians are at a loss if they have no knowledge of hymnology, that hymnology must include an understanding or what's being sung, not just an opinion that what's being sung is profound.

EUPHORIA IN PREACHING

Several times in the pulpit this year, I've experienced brief moments of euphoria while preaching. They've been surprising experiences, but so far as I know, only my wife and I know about them--until know. I don't think these moments are proof of increased spirituality or supernatural signs of the Spirit's special presence. But it is encouraging to know that I'm emotionally invested in what Christ has called me to do.

I began preaching when I was a teenager, and in my late twenties, I began pastoring the church where I've been for the past dozen plus years. I usually preach expository sermons heavy on explanation and exegesis, but for me preaching is not an academic exercise. I'm passionate about it, and I'm often passionate in the pulpit, too. I'm not into revivalism, and I don't believe that a good sermon requires the preacher to work himself into a frenzy. In my most emotional moments, my pulpit mannerisms are nothing like those of the sweat-soaked, platform pacing, cadence and crescendo evangelists I saw in my youth. And while I was impressed in positive ways by their passion for preaching, I'm convicted that God is most pleased with preaching that emphasizes substance over style. For that reason I use what homileticians call an "enlarged conversational style."

Sometimes while preaching I've felt a sense of euphoria at a key moment in the sermon. It's not an overpowering ecstasy, but it's definitely an exhilarating rush. It happens rarely and unpredictably, but when it's occurred, it's always been when I'm bringing my sermon to a close or when I've hit a natural high point in the message. I recognize the feeling as being somewhat similar to what I felt in my youth when I would get caught up in the atmosphere of a fiery evangelist's message. Back then I wrongly associated that sensation with the filling of the Holy Spirit. I later learned to understand that such feelings are simply, well, feelings. They are an indication of my own emotional investment in what's being said, not necessarily a sign of the Spirit's work.

Euphoria is a common human experience which can occur in many kinds of religious and secular settings. Athletes often feel a rush at high points of exertion, and even sports fans might feel a rush when their team wins a cliffhanger. On the religious side of the spectrum, all sorts of people--whether believers in Christ or not--can have moments of euphoria. Hindus, Buddhists, Muslims, Mormons, Catholics, Pentecostals, Baptists, and pastors like myself are known to experience moments of euphoria in the midst of their religious activities. That doesn't mean that all of these persons feel the same thing or that their feelings are all of the same value. Each arena of experience has its own unique nuances. But they share something in common: the thrill that can come from deep emotional investment.

I'm glad that I know that because it would be easy to misidentify those forceful feelings in the pulpit as indicators of the Spirit's powerful presence. But Scripture doesn't teach that experiencing euphoria is a guarantee of the Spirit's work. The Scripture never promises the believer this sort of experience as something normative in his or her life. The Spirit certainly knows how to make dramatic changes in a person's life in a moment, and those moments of transformation might very well be attended by euphoric joy. But the real proof of the Spirit's transforming work is seen over the long haul as a person's affections, decisions, relationships, and reactions in real life are fashioned after Christ's likeness.

I can definitely see how pulpit euphoria can become addictive. For those preachers who serve in revivalist traditions, feelings of euphoria are more common, perhaps even the norm for some. I live next door to a non-English speaking revivalist church, and the brothers and sisters there like to worship with their church windows open. I can only understand a tiny bit of what's being said, but every service is characterized by predictable crescendos that end in emotional rapture. I can't quantify all that the Spirit is or isn't doing in their church's life. I pray that the net effect of their ministry is that Christians are drawing closer to the Lord and the lost are being drawn to Christ. But I also pray that the saints are not being misled as to what to think about the emotional journey that they travel each week during their services.

I certainly don't mean to imply that emotions are bad or intrinsically suspect. If our hearts are seldom stirred with wider awakenings to God's glorious grace, something may well be amiss. God created our emotions, and our affections for Him are part of the bonds of love which the Spirit uses to unite us experientially with Christ. Euphoria is a climactic emotional experience which we should neither seek nor reject. But if we should feel it, let us not automatically identify the rush we feel with the wind of the Spirit. Euphoria may only be a gauge of our emotional investment in what we're doing for the Lord's sake.

CHRISTIAN CITIZENRY AND THE POLITICS OF LOVE

As a pastor, I view my calling as an ambassador of the kingdom of Christ of greater importance than my being a citizen of a great country, a land for which I am very grateful. I often feel uncomfortable with some of the prominent forms of Christian political activism that I see, and I believe there is a real danger for the Church to become overly politicized.  But I also believe there is such a thing as Christian citizenry.  I'd like to address the role of love as a motivator for voting, communicating with our representatives, & engaging in other forms of social action. 

Throughout history there have been many different forms of Christian involvement in government & politics.  Many of these have been wrong or imbalanced. A fair amount of contemporary Christian political action seems to be motivated by anger, fear, & power.  Anger often arises over the country's loss of its Christian moorings; fear may develop from a concern over the surge of humanistic ideologies; and power is often sought as a means of abating that fear & anger.  Obviously, there are grave matters of concern in our culture, & concern is a legitimate motivator so long as it does not degenerate into angry, power-hungry fear.  Yes, there’s a time for moral outrage. But Christians are taught by the gospel to be motivated primarily by faith, hope, & love.  Love in particular is a far greater motivator for Christian citizenry than fear.

Consider how love can motivate us. Firstly, we are to love God & His truth.  Thus we will seek to lift up God's truth so that others might see the goodness & wisdom of His ways.  This is not building a theocracy--only the return of King Jesus will ever bring about the direct rule of God in this world.  But when laws fail to promote righteousness & justice, we should care.  God is the originator of the principle of human government, & He designed it to reflect His glory.  Poor government reflects poorly on God's glory in the earth & can contribute to a twisted understanding of His authority.  Our desire should not to be to gain power so we might subdue our own fears but to exert positive influence so that God might be more glorified.

Secondly, we are to love our neighbors.  We will be better motivated to vote & engage in other forms of social action if we see these actions as an opportunity to love our neighbors as ourselves.  Our love will show itself by endorsing values, legislation, & leadership which promote the common good, righteousness, & justice.  Of course, many of our neighbors may not agree with us on all points as to what is the common good.  Love for one's neighbors is not always understood or appreciated for what it is.  But we must love even when we are hated.

Thirdly, we are to love the Church.  Voting & other forms of political involvement give us the opportunity to preserve freedom which is beneficial to the promotion of the gospel & the ministry of the Church.  While early Christians were left with little legal recourse under the evil whims of Caesar, we have the Sovereignly-given privilege of a democratic republic whereby we can influence “Caesar” for the better & so care for one another.

In conclusion, we must remember the role of faith & hope in all our socio-political activities. Our faith & hope do not rest in our efforts, our laws, or even our republic. Our faith & hope lie completely in King Jesus.  Regardless of what may happen to America, we are citizens of the Kingdom of our Lord Jesus Christ---a kingdom which will never fail.  We need never worry about elections turning out badly in that realm.  The Kingdom of God must always claim our first allegiance & our greater energies, but we should still seek the common good as an expression of gospel motivated love. 

"So then, while we have opportunity, let us do good to all people, and especially to those who are of the house-hold of the faith" (Galatians 6:10).

CAREFUL WITH THAT SWORD! (updated)

In my last post I discussed a verse about God's Word that is often misused with the best of intentions. Today's post continues in that swath.  One of the passages that Christians very often use to instruct others in the power of the word is Hebrews 4:12-13. 

Hebrews 4:12-13 is one of the most visceral and emotionally charged passages in the Bible. It uses the graphic military imagery of a sword slaying and splaying an enemy.  But it does not slay flesh and blood. Instead it splays open the soul of man, and with painful sharpness eviscerates its inner motives.  Not even the most secretive of thoughts is safe from the severing power of God’s incomparably sharp two-edged sword.

 

Most often this passage is used to describe the convicting power of the Bible in people's lives. But is that really the point in this passage? As with many references in the Bible to "the word of God," the "word" here is not the Bible in general but a special revelation in particular. In our passage the "word" is actually the Gospel. You see, the Gospel contains both a blessing and a curse. Those who receive and believe the Gospel inherit the blessings of an everlasting new life, but those who reject it inherit everlasting destruction away from the presence of the Lord. The Lord Jesus said, "He who rejects me and my sayings has one who judges him; the word I spoke will judge him on the last day" (John 12:48).

Hebrews 4:12-13 is part of a larger section in the book which warns its readers about turning away from the truth. In chapter 3, the author mentions the generation of Israelites who came out of Egypt with Moses. While they all experienced national salvation in being delivered from their overlords, it seems that very few of them experienced spiritual deliverance from their sins. The majority of that first generation perished in the wilderness under the judgment of God, and, it would appear, in a state of spiritual unbelief. Hebrews 3:17 describes that generation as those "whose bodies fell in the wilderness." The author warns his Hebrew readers that they must beware of committing an even worse error in turning away from the truth of the Gospel. In Hebrews 4:11, he uses the term "fall" again: “Therefore let us be diligent ... so that no one will fall, through following the same example of disobedience.” The danger is not merely of falling away from the faith but also of falling under the judgment of God. The instrument of that judgment in Hebrews 4:12 is the sword of God's Word.
 
In Hebrews 4:13, the imagery shifts slightly, describing not so much what the Sword of God does, but the absolute control of the One who wields it—God himself. All persons, actions, and thoughts are fully known to him. Before Him all people are essentially naked and powerless before His seat of judgment with no way and nowhere to hide. The term rendered “laid bare” actually means “to be grabbed by the throat.” The exact meaning of the term here is debated, but it was used in the world of Greco-Roman wrestling for disabling neck grips. It depicts someone in a powerless position, waiting to receive his death blow or be released in mercy.

 

Does this verse have any relevance to the Christian’s daily experience with the Scripture? Yes, sort of. That's because what God has already revealed in the Scripture will be the measurement by which His final judgment is made. We don’t have to come to the Day of Judgment to realize that God’s revelation in Scripture has piercing power. When we responded to the Gospel and felt our need of Christ, we felt something of the piercing power of the Word. When our hearts are convicted of sin, we feel something of its pointed blade. But the real force of this verse is to confront pretending Christians with the reality of final judgment. We must be careful to teach the main point of this passage: the Day of Judgment will be pointedly painful experience for pretenders. This verse has particular relevance for pretending Christians, those who have not really entered into a New Covenant relationship with Jesus Christ.

As right as it is for us to celebrate the penetrating, convicting, and transforming power of the Bible in our lives, this verse isn’t about that. This verse is not about Christians becoming skilled in their use of the Bible, like a swordsman learning to use his blade. There are other verses which are more relevant for that (e.g., Ephesians 6:17). Hebrew's depiction of God's Sword splaying souls open is not a thing for us to desire. God Himself will wield this sword on the Day of Judgment, exposing the thoughts and motives of those who claimed to be God’s people but who had actually turned away from the Gospel of grace.

 

The well-intended misuse of this passage is yet another example of how easy it is to proof-text well-known verses with the best of intentions. We all do it from time to time, perhaps much more than we realize. When we hear a verse used over and over a certain way--especially by people we've come to trust--we naturally assume that this way of understanding the text has been properly vetted. But in Bible interpretation, context must be king. Unfortunately, we're all too prone to use the Bible as like a book of inspired quotes instead of a collection of inspired texts with contexts.

 

Maybe we should start another blog site where we can catalogue well-known verses that are inadvertently misused. I've already got a name for the site: "Careful with that sword!"