Whether it was my church experience as a child or my Grandmother's endless supply of hymns that accompanied her daily actions, I'm not sure. But, by my teenage years, blood hymns were very familiar musical companions (at least the ones found in the Baptist and Methodist hymnals). So, it was a bit of a surprise upon entering my first church pianist position when the singing of blood hymns was met with opposition by several parishioners. In this particular church context, I came in contact with the polarizing, and even devisive, effect blood hymns can have. On the one hand, there were people who are disgusted by the thought of blood, much less gruesome depictions of Christ's crucifixion. Whether the hymn specifically speaks of the crucifixion or not, discussion of Christ's blood raises such images in this camp's head(s), images that do not seem conducive to the worship situation because of their shocking quality (more on that particular opinion later). Interestingly, the other side of the argument seemed to support the singing of blood hymns on the basis of tradition. We've sung about it before, why not sing about it again? There's nothing wrong with singing about blood, though it probably wouldn't be good to do it all the time; we don't want to get so obsessed with the blood that we forget about Jesus.
If we rewind the story of Christian history a few hundred years, the controversy (yes, I say controversy, because there are churches out there where whole worship committee meetings are spent discussing this very issue) surrounding the mention of Christ's blood in worship is virtually non-existent. In the Medieval Church, the devout longed for visions of Christ's Passion. They believed if they could in some way look upon or participate in Christ's pain, suffering, and crucifixion, they would gain a deeper faith and closer union with God. The Revelations, a seminal text from the 14th century written by the anchorite Julian of Norwich, recounts Julian's own such spiritual encounters, or showings as she calls them, of the Passion of Christ and the understandings of God and God's relation to humanity which come out of the visions. Julian spends several chapters describing her visions of the "dearworthy Blood of our Lord Jesus Christ, as truly as it it is most precious, so truly it is most plentiful." For Julian, at least as I read her, the power of the blood of Christ stems from its sure connection to the Incarnation--Christ fully God and fully man, the Divine Being who bleeds and dies in the manner that all men would, but with a purpose far beyond what any human could imagine.
The imagery Julian applies to the fulfillment of this purpose is magnificent:
The precious abundance of His dearworthy Blood descended down into hell, and burst their bonds and delivered all that were there who belonged to the court of heaven. The precious abundance of His dearworthy Blood flows over all earth and is quick to wash all creatures from sin who are of good will, have been, and shall be. The precious abundance of His dearworthy Blood ascended up into heaven to the blessed Body of our Lord Jesus Christ, and there it is within Him, bleeding and praying for us to the Father. --The Revelations, chapter 12
As beautiful as Julian's description of the Blood is, it is the understanding given to her by God that solidifies the real and true purpose of the Blood. In reference to her visions of the Passion, God "formed in [her] soul these words: 'With this the Fiend is overcome.'" (Chapter 13) The Blood of Christ is a healing agent, a cleansing fountain, a lifegiving element through the death and resurrection. But most of all, it is a weapon of grace which shatters the Fiend's (devil's) hold and frees the captives to a fuller, more abundant life in worship, service, and companionship with the Most High God.
Therefore, why would we not sing about the Blood of Christ?
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