Blood Hymns, Part II

As promised, Part II of the debacle on blood hymns.  I don't assume that my thoughts cover everything that might be said on the subject, but perhaps they will feed further thought and discussion in this and other areas.  Let me begin with a story:

Once upon a time, really only a few hundred years ago, there was a man in England who suffered from a weak constitution and deep emotional pain.  Having lost his mother at the age of 9, this man felt his grief keenly and, driven by his bodily weakness, remained even more removed from society.  However, he had a quick mind and studied the law, eventually being offered a post as Clerk of the Journal to the House of Lords.  Unfortunately, before he could take the job, he was required to sit for a public examination.  The stress of a public examination proved to be too much for this man, and he suffered a mental breakdown disastrous enough to send him to an asylum.  In the midst of his break, the man attempted suicide multiple times, each time being royally unsuccessful.  After this first mental break, the man went to live with a clergyman and his wife, who removed with him to Olney, a small town in Buckinghamshire.  Here, this man, William Cowper, met a man who would become his lifelong friend and confidant, John Newton, curate of Olney and former slave trader.   Cowper struggled his whole life with his fear of God's damnation for his attempts to take his own life, a fear only compounded by his continued mental illness.  Cowper also produced some of the most famous and beautiful poetry of his day, and put his skills to use in helping Newton compile a hymn book published in 1779 called Olney Hymns. 

After his recovery from his first mental break, Cowper wrote the following hymn:

There is a fountain filled with blood drawn from Emmanuel’s veins;

And sinners plunged beneath that flood lose all their guilty stains.

Lose all their guilty stains, lose all their guilty stains;

And sinners plunged beneath that flood lose all their guilty stains.

The dying thief rejoiced to see that fountain in his day;

And there have I, though vile as he, washed all my sins away.

Washed all my sins away, washed all my sins away;

And there have I, though vile as he, washed all my sins away.

Dear dying Lamb, Thy precious blood shall never lose its power

Till all the ransomed church of God be saved, to sin no more.

Be saved, to sin no more, be saved, to sin no more;

Till all the ransomed church of God be saved, to sin no more.

E’er since, by faith, I saw the stream Thy flowing wounds supply,

Redeeming love has been my theme, and shall be till I die.

And shall be till I die, and shall be till I die;

Redeeming love has been my theme, and shall be till I die.

Then in a nobler, sweeter song, I’ll sing Thy power to save,

When this poor lisping, stammering tongue lies silent in the grave.

Lies silent in the grave, lies silent in the grave;

When this poor lisping, stammering tongue lies silent in the grave.

Lord, I believe Thou hast prepared, unworthy though I be,

For me a blood-bought free reward, a golden harp for me!

’Tis strung and tuned for endless years, and formed by power divine,

To sound in God the Father’s ears no other name but Thine.



In these verses, we see numerous attributions and descriptions of the Blood of Christ:

• a fountain (indicating abundance) under which sinners are plunged (not a tiptoe or a smattering, but fully enveloped) and are cleansed of all sins
• power through which the Church is won and claimed by God and under which the Church is called to sin no more
• a constant stream, a living reminder of the redeeming love that beats in the hearts and accompanies every breath of the saved sinner
• a payment, a ransom bringing full eternal communion with God, enabling and empowering God's people in unending praise

The Blood is infinitely more than all of these descriptors, and yet is simple enough to be summed up in the evidence of the life of William Cowper: the Blood of Christ is a means of grace, painfully spilt and freely offered for all eternity.

So, why would we not sing about the Blood?

At this point, I could go into a whole other blog on modern humanity's lack of attention to the frailty of the human condition, our negligence of the poor and disabled, our unwillingness to identify with the suffering of Christ because we fear suffering for ourselves.  But, I won't, though those would all be pretty decent arguments.  I'll let you think about those things, struggle over them, ask questions. 

What stands out to me as a basic problem at this moment is this: the lack of brave honesty to hold together the suffering of Christ and His Blood freely given, to feel the guilt of human brokenness and sin along with the deep joy of true and abundant forgiveness and reconciliation. To focus on suffering alone is depressing and overwhelming, but to focus solely on grace and joy leads to a thin theology that does not hold up to the difficulties of human existence.  As a foundation of our faith, the blood Christ shed and the theology we sing into people's hearts (thank you, Charles Wesley!), then the hymns we sing should reflect the [painful and paradoxical] complexity of the content of our faith. 

So, sing of the Blood, of the joy,of the sorrow, of the grace!  And don't stop, because love calls us to comfort and sharpen one another in the faith with eyes fixed on the Almighty God who longs for deeper and fuller communion with the Church ransomed by the Suffering Servant.