Read: Leviticus 17:11 and Hebrews 9:11-14

For the life of the flesh is in the blood; and I have given it to you for making atonement for your lives on the altar; for, as life, it is the blood that makes atonement. (Lev. 17:11, NRSV).

But when Christ came as a high priest of the good things that have come, then through the greater and perfect tent (not made with hands, that is, not of this creation), he entered once for all into the Holy Place, not with the blood of goats and calves, but with his own blood, thus obtaining eternal redemption (Hebrews 9:11-12, NRSV).

Sing (or don’t): “There Is a Fountain Filled with Blood” by William Cowper (1772)

I was visiting my home church with my kids when they were about seven and nine. When the congregation launched into “There is a Fountain Filled with Blood,” they both leaned around their grandparents and looked at me with horror.  I can still see them mouthing the word, “WHAT????”

Here is the first verse of the hymn they found so offensive:

There is a fountain filled with blood
Drawn from Immanuel’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.

During the obligatory debriefing session after church, I realized a couple of things. First, I realized that from their perspective, the image of being plunged into a fountain of blood was a bad thing. In fact, it sounded suspiciously like the horror movies I wouldn’t let them watch. Second, I realized that I had become numb to such imagery. Some of this was surely due to being trained as an Old Testament professor. Blood atonement imagery is part of my stock in trade. That in combination with decades of singing traditional “blood hymns” (see also “Power in the Blood” and “Nothing but the Blood of Jesus”), had desensitized me to the shock value of such lyrics.

While one could argue that the shock value is part of the point, I wonder if it might be time to reevaluate using hymn texts like these. While there is plenty of biblical support for such imagery, the reaction of my kids illustrates that these lyrics just don’t land as well as they used to.

There are all sorts of examples of this, and biblical scholars spend a lot of time explaining them to unsuspecting students and congregations. For instance, it’s hard to explain why being covered with “a multitude of camels” is a good thing (see Isaiah 60:6). Newer translations have saved us from having to explain why Paul tells the Philippians that he longs for them all “in the bowels of Jesus Christ” (Philippians 1:8, KJV).

Yes—I can hear you all saying, “WHAT????”

To state the obvious, metaphors don’t always move easily across the centuries. And while these “blood hymns” aren’t precisely heretical, they have lost a lot of their ability to communicate the grace and good news of the gospel. To put it bluntly, there may be less “power in the blood” these days—at least in symbolic terms.

Ponder:

• What are the pros and cons of singing these traditional “blood hymns”? Here is a link to the full text of “There Is a Fountain Filled with Blood.”
• Verse 3 of “There is a Fountain” relies on a “ransom” theory of the atonement. Can you see any theological risks with this? Tune in next week for more about that.

Dear dying Lamb, Thy precious blood
Shall never lose its pow’r,
Till all the ransomed Church of God
Be saved, to sin no more…
Till all the ransomed Church of God
Be saved, to sin no more.

Pray: Help us to find fresh ways to communicate your redeeming love.

Read: Luke 15:11-32

“I will get up and go to my father, and I will say to him, ‘Father, I have sinned against heaven and before you; I am no longer worthy to be called your son; treat me like one of your hired hands.’” So he set off and went to his father. But while he was still far off, his father saw him and was filled with compassion; he ran and put his arms around him and kissed him (Luke 15:18-22, NRSV).

Sing (or don’t): “Reckless Love” by Cory Asbury, Caleb Culver, & Ron Jackson

There are so many good things to say about the lyrics to Cory Asbury’s popular song, “Reckless Love.” The song is replete with biblical allusions which both enrich and inspire. Here are a few of the ones I heard.

The opening stanza echoes Psalm 139:13-16, in which the psalmist wonders aloud at being “knit together in my mother’s womb” and “fearfully and wonderfully made.” Can you hear it?

Before I spoke a word, You were singing over me
You have been so, so good to me
Before I took a breath, You breathed Your life in me
You have been so, so kind to me

Later, the line when I was Your foe, still Your love fought for me made me think of Saul/Paul’s dramatic Damascus Road story (Acts 9). And a line from the refrain manages two allusions in one. Speaking of God’s love, it celebrates the fact that it chases me down, fights ’til I’m found, leaves the ninety-nine. The easy reference there is to the parable of the lost sheep in Matthew 18:12-14 where the good shepherd leave(s) the ninety-nine on the mountains and go(es) in search of the one that went astray. The more subtle echo (perhaps only audible to an Old Testament professor’s ears) is to Psalm 23:6, which, when translated literally, celebrates the fact that God’s goodness and mercy will pursue me all the days of my life.

So, what’s not to like in these lyrics? Take another look at the full refrain:

Oh, the overwhelming, never-ending, reckless love of God
Oh, it chases me down, fights ’til I’m found, leaves the ninety-nine
I couldn’t earn it, and I don’t deserve it, still, You give Yourself away
Oh, the overwhelming, never-ending, reckless love of God, yeah

While God’s love is absolutely “overwhelming” and certainly “never-ending,” I’m not sure it’s accurate to describe it as “reckless.” That word connotes that an action is done thoughtlessly or without regard for consequences.

I’m not the first person to quibble with Asbury’s word choice. Enough other people have objected to it that Asbury felt it necessary to issue a kind of caveat:

“When I used the phrase, ‘the reckless love of God,’ when we say it, we’re not saying that God Himself is reckless, He’s not crazy. We are, however, saying that the way He loves, is in many regards, quite so. But what I mean is this: He’s utterly unconcerned with the consequences of His own actions with regard to His own safety, comfort and well-being. He doesn’t wonder what He’ll gain or lose by putting Himself on the line, He simply puts Himself out there on the off-chance that you and I might look back at Him and give Him that love in return.” – Cory Asbury.

Point taken. Still, I found myself wishing that “Reckless Love 2.0” might feature the word “prodigal” instead of “reckless.” (I know, it creates a difficult rhythm, but work with me here.) Although it’s not a word we use much anymore, it does draw on another story from Scripture. The story of the “prodigal son” in Luke 15:11-32 gives us a profound picture of the kind of love Asbury seeks to portray in this song. Indeed, many have suggested that a better title for the parable would be the “prodigal father,” who runs to embrace the son who once was lost but now is found. The prodigal father’s love is extravagant, unstinting, and—hey, this would work with the song’s rhythm—lavish.

So, is “Reckless Love” heretical? No—but that one unfortunate word choice is sadly misleading. And unless you want to include the author’s careful caveat every time your congregation sings the song, it makes it awkward to use.

Ponder: Have I spoiled this song for you? Why or why not.

Pray: May we love as lavishly as you have loved us.

Read: Ephesians 6:10-17

Therefore, take up the whole armor of God, so that you may be able to withstand on that evil day, and having done everything, to stand firm. Stand therefore, and fasten the belt of truth around your waist, and put on the breastplate of righteousness. As shoes for your feet put on whatever will make you ready to proclaim the gospel of peace. With all of these, take the shield of faith, with which you will be able to quench all the flaming arrows of the evil one. Take the helmet of salvation and the sword of the Spirit, which is the word of God (Ephesians 6:13-17) NRSV.

Sing (or don’t): “Onward, Christian Soldiers” by Sabine Maring-Gould (1834)

Some hymns should come with a warning label, and this is one of them. Maybe that’s why it has dropped out of so many hymnals in recent decades. People seem to perceive that the hymn’s militaristic language may not be quite the “thing” anymore. Take a look at the first half of the hymn, and see what you think:

1 Onward, Christian soldiers,
Marching as to war.
With the cross of Jesus
Going on before:
Christ, the royal Master,
Leads against the foe;
Forward into battle,
See His banners go.

Refrain:
Onward, Christian soldiers,
marching as to war,
With the cross of Jesus
going on before.

2 Like a mighty army
Moves the Church of God;
Christians, we are treading
Where the saints have trod,
We are not divided,
All one body we:
One in hope and one in faith,
One in charity. [Refrain]

To be fair, the military metaphor that dominates the hymn has Scripture as its source. In Ephesians 6, Paul encourages the Ephesian Christians to “put on the whole armor of God.” Using the accoutrements of the familiar armor of the Roman soldier as a symbolic starting point, he urges them to strap on the belt of truth, the breastplate of righteousness, the shield of faith, the helmet of salvation, and the sword of the Spirit.

This was an apt metaphor in the context of the early Christian church. Roman soldiers were everywhere, after all, and had a reputation for invincibility. Early Christians were usually on the receiving end of that invincibility. Paul’s words invited them to imagine what it would be like to have access to such armor against spiritual enemies (see v. 12). I suspect the irony of those words would not have been lost on original recipients of Paul’s letter. Not only is Paul using the uniform of the oppressor as a teaching tool, but he’s also using the trappings of war to encourage his readers “to proclaim the gospel of peace” (v. 15).

So, if it worked so well for the ancient Ephesians, why doesn’t it work equally well for us?

Theoretically, I suppose it could still work. The trouble is that we’re all such literalists.

There’s been a terrible tendency over the centuries to confuse the messenger with the message. The military metaphor is the messenger, after all. It’s designed to proclaim the gospel of peace. Oblivious to the irony, we rush out to strap on literal armor and conquer the world by force. If you don’t believe me, read up on the Crusades, or for that matter, Christian nationalism.

To paraphrase a verse from the book of Proverbs, there is a time for every hymn-text under heaven. This may not be the time for this one. In my opinion, it’s time to put this old war-horse out to pasture.

Ponder: What’s your experience with this hymn? Would it be hard to give it up? If so, why?

Pray: May the songs that we sing be acceptable to you, Prince of Peace.

Read: Colossians 3:12-17

Let the word of Christ dwell in you richly; teach and admonish one another in all wisdom; and with gratitude in your hearts sing psalms, hymns, and spiritual songs to God” (Colossians 3:16, NRSV).

Sing (or don’t): “Here I Am to Worship” by Tim Hughes

Before you get your hackles up, I acknowledge that this popular worship song is neither a hymn nor heretical. So, why include it in a series called “Heretical Hymns”?

Let’s take the hymn question first. Colossians 3:16 encourages the believers to sing “psalms, hymns, and spiritual songs.” Without getting too far into the weeds, “Here I Am to Worship” fits best in the “spiritual song” category. It’s not based on any of the 150 Old Testament psalms, nor is it as formal in structure as most traditional hymns. While some might argue that spiritual songs are more spontaneous or personal, I think we may be better off just thinking of this as a “catch-all” category. And since I’m not limiting this series to traditional hymns, I’d like to include this very popular category as fair game. I don’t mean this in a negative sense, necessarily—but in the sense that such songs are worth the same level of scrutiny as anything we use to worship the living God.

So, are the lyrics heretical?

In a word—no. But they are a bit worrying, especially because they are symptomatic of our culture’s obsession with the self.

Let’s take a look at the central refrain of the song:

Here I am to worship

Here I am to bow down

Here I am to say that You’re my God

You’re altogether lovely

Altogether worthy

Altogether wonderful to me

Let’s be fair. I don’t think this refrain is trying to be profound or poetic. It’s simply a sincere expression of a worshiper’s intent. So far, so orthodox.

One might object to the obvious irony of sending God a breathless news bulletin: “Here I am to worship!” That seems like a strange thing to say right out of the blocks—which is when this song is usually sung in a worship service. One imagines the angels leaning down to remind us, “It’s not about you….”

Still, there is some precedent for such a statement of intent. The traditional “votum” from Psalm 124:8 makes a similar declaration by affirming that, “Our help is in the name of the LORD, who made heaven and earth.” The Latin word votum means “vow” or “promise,” and such a declaration is a worthy way to begin a service that’s dedicated to declaring God’s “worth.” (That’s the literal meaning of the word “worship.”)

If we take a closer look at Psalm 124:8, however, we see some ways the refrain falls short. Note first the way the psalm puts the focus squarely on God. God is acknowledged as both creator (maker of heaven and earth) and redeemer (our help). Equally telling is the use of the first-person plural, “our.” This psalmist knows that it’s not just “about me.” While not discounting the importance of an individual relationship with our creator and redeemer, worshipping this God is a communal act with cosmic consequences.

So, no. “Here I Am to Worship” is not heretical. But it is woefully inadequate and worryingly individualistic. It is the byproduct of a culture that makes an idol of the self, and it perpetuates that idolatry by teaching worshipers that personal salvation is what Christianity is all about.

Should we stop singing it? Well, that’s something you might want to talk about with your congregation. At the very least, it will be important to make sure that your worship services include plenty of “psalms, hymns, and spiritual songs” that acknowledge the communal component of the church and the cosmic nature of God.

Ponder:

• Do the songs and prayers in your congregation’s worship services use “I/me” language or “we/us” language more? What’s that about? How is it shaping your congregation?
• Many of the biblical psalms use the first-person singular. Psalm 23, for instance, begins with “The Lord is my shepherd.” How does this factor into the discussion? (Bear in mind that sheep come in flocks….)

Pray: Our help is in the name of the Lord, who made heaven and earth.

Read: Leviticus 8:30-36

You shall remain at the entrance of the tent of meeting day and night for seven kays, keeping the LORD’s charge to that you do not die; for so I am commanded (Leviticus 8:35, NRSV).

Sing (or don’t): “A Charge to Keep I Have” by Charles Wesley (1762) BOYLSTON

1 A charge to keep I have,
a God to glorify,
a never-dying soul to save,
and fit it for the sky.

2 To serve the present age,
my calling to fulfill,
O may it all my pow’rs engage
to do my Master’s will!

3 Arm me with watchful care
as in Thy sight to live,
and now Thy servant, Lord, prepare
a strict account to give!

4 Help me to watch and pray,
and still on Thee rely,
O let me not my trust betray,
but press to realms on high.

At first glance, this hymn text is an inspirational reminder to take one’s Christian responsibility seriously. Indeed, Charles Wesley’s prayer for God to help him “serve the present age—my calling to fulfill” seems spot on for contemporary Christians trying to figure out how to navigate uncertain times.

“What’s so heretical about that?” you may be asking.

There’s nothing inherently heretical—or even problematic—about this hymn’s basic premise: that Christians ought to walk their talk, and that they need God’s help to do so. But embedded in this prayer is an insidious assumption that comes to us not by way of Scripture, but by way of Greek dualism. I’m talking about the phrase, “a never-dying soul to save.”

If you are a regular reader of this blog, you’ll know I have a bone to pick with the body/soul split that is so ubiquitous in popular Christian theology. In the Old Testament, human beings are created as living “beings” (Genesis 2:7). The Hebrew word behind this is nephesh. In spite of how this word is usually translated, it does not mean “soul.” Rather, it refers to the totality of who we are as human beings—physical, spiritual, emotional, and psychological. So, it’s not so much that humans have a soul as that they are a soul. Just remember that if you insist on using that word, you have to shake the dust of dualism off your feet.

Interestingly, animals are also described with the same word (Genesis 2:19). So, the difference between humans and animals is not that one “has a soul” and the other does not. It’s that humans are “made in the image of God” (Genesis 1:26). If you’re thinking that this is very good news for whether you will be reunited with your pets in heaven—you would be right!

But I digress. Looking back at the hymn lyric in verse one, the dualistic assumptions are pretty obvious. In Charles Wesley’s defense, he was relying generally on widely held assumptions. He was also relying more specifically on Matthew Henry’s 1706 commentary on Leviticus 8:31-36 (a passage about the ordination of priests). It reads:

We have every one of us a charge to keep, an eternal God to glorify, an immortal soul to provide for, needful duty to be done, our generation to serve; and it must be our daily care to keep this charge, for it is the charge of the Lord our Master, who will shortly call us to an account about it, and it is at our peril if we neglect it. Keep it ‘that ye die not’; it is death, eternal death, to betray the trust we are charged with.

Nevertheless, two wrongs don’t make a right. Two can stray into the heretical ditch as easily as one.

“Why should we care?” you may well be asking.

There’s a clue to this in the very phrasing of the line in question. Did you notice the agency that’s assumed there? “A never-dying soul to save,” it says. Not only is this thing called a “soul” never-dying, but it seems to be our human responsibility to save it.

Take a closer look at the Apostles’ Creed. Notice what Christians have been claiming to believe since the second century. “I believe in the resurrection of the body,” we affirm. We don’t confess that our immortal souls will fly off under their own speed off to be with God when we die. The resurrection of the body (think nephesh) is something that God will accomplish for us through the saving death and resurrection of Jesus Christ on the last day.

I will now get off my high horse—at least until next time.

Ponder this quote from Frederick Buechner:

Man does not go on living beyond the grave because that’s how he is made. Rather, he goes to his grave as dead as a doornail and is given his life back again by God (i.e., resurrected) just as he was given it by God in the first place, because that is the way God is made.

See the full quote and references here: Immortality

Pray: Help us to take our Christian witness seriously as we await the resurrection of our bodies.

Note: This is the first installment of a new series called:  Heretical Hymns 

You’re probably familiar with the saying, “You are what you eat.” It’s one of those realities that is so obvious we often overlook it. Yet, once it’s pointed out, we’ll never be able to “un-know” it. Every trip through the fast-food drive-through becomes an ominous glimpse in the mirror.

The ecclesiastical version of this saying is lex orandi, lex credendi. Briefly translated, it points out that worship shapes belief.

When I first heard this news bulletin, it struck me as counter intuitive. Surely, I thought, it’s the other way around. Belief is what shapes our worship. Our hymns and prayers grow out of our beliefs.

The older I get, however, the more I understand the wisdom of lex orandi, lex credendi. The songs we sing in worship do shape what and how we believe. In a very real way, we believe what we sing.

In this series we’ll be taking a closer look at some of the hymns and songs that may be shaping our beliefs in unhealthy ways. Some are downright heretical; others are simply unhealthy. (Think of a spectrum with cigarettes on one end and French fries on the other.) There’s a very good chance you won’t agree with some of my choices. That’s fine. But if I’ve made you think about it, I will have accomplished my goal. All of us could stand to think about the fact that—theologically speaking—we believe what we sing.

Enjoy!

Carol Bechtel

Note: The title for this series was inspired by a sermon by Sarah Van Zetten Bruins. Sarah is wholly responsible for the title but should not be held responsible for the content.