I’ve written a few times about the growing resurgence in antisemitism. I talk in terms of resurgence because this is a historic problem and whilst we think primarily of Nazi Germany, neither Britain nor the church has a good record here. Testimony to our failure include the writings of Martin Luther and some shocking examples of persecution around Britain such as the shell of Clifford’s Tower in York. The resurgence of the problem has also awoken us to some of that history.
One person on twitter thinks that they’ve found another example here.
They suggest that we need to modify the hymn in order to avoid the problem by changing “they” to “we”.
Are they right? And would it help for us to change the hymn’s lyrics? On this occasion I’m far from convinced and here’s why. If you take verses 3-5 on their own, it looks like the author, Samuel Crossman is creating a dichotomy here between us and the people who rejected, despised, and killed Jesus. This is one of the primary causes of antisemitism, the belief that it was the Jews who killed the Christ. So, if we think that it was the Jews who were fickle and “sometimes strew his way” but “Then ‘crucify’ was all their breath” and “they… needs will have our dear Lord done away” then we risk putting ourselves on the side of loyal loving faithfulness to Christ and the Jewish people solely and uniformly against him.
However, that is to miss a few crucial elements to the song/poem, some of which are obscured in this version. First of all, have a look at verse 2. In this version it says “but sin made blind..” That’s an interesting turn of phrase but isn’t in fact what many of us will be used to singing. I suspect what we have here is an example of a modified hymn to enable gender neutral language -something I’m generally in favour of. However, when you look at the version most of us will have sung it actually says:
He came from his blest throne
salvation to bestow;
but men made strange, and none
the longed-for Christ would know.
But O, my Friend,
my Friend indeed,
who at my need
his life did spend!
The line “men made strange” is vital because here the author isn’t thinking of “some men” as in a few males. The language here speaks of “all men” or more properly “all humanity”. In other words, whilst Crossman is about to describe the specific actions of some men, of those alive and present at the time of Jesus’ earthly ministry, he sees them as representing and acting on behalf of all of us. The point is not that these people were unique but that we all would have gone the same way as them.
The next important line remains in the version that Margaret Houston has used. Look at verse 5, the people seek to kill Jesus and save a murderer (Barabbas) but Jesus “cheerfully” meaning willingly, without protest goes to his death. He does so “that he his foes from hence may free.” Jesus has enemies who seek to kill him but he in fact is dying so that his enemies may be saved and forgiven. This means that even and especially those who had a hand in his execution could avail themselves of the Gospel. It also means that if I see myself as a beneficiary of his death I too must include myself with his enemies.
The third important bit of context has been cut from the version used here. Often hymns were longer poems than the verses selected for singing but it has been the habit historically to sing seven verses of My Song is Love Unknown. Usually this verse would be sung as verse 6:
In life no house, no home
my Lord on earth might have;
in death no friendly tomb
but what a stranger gave.
What may I say?
Heav’n was his home;
but mine the tomb
wherein he lay.
Here, Crossman says “mine was the tomb wherein he lay” and this is the clinching, heart convicting line that brings us to the point where we can properly sing the last verse of heart felt of devotion. Before I can express my love for him, I need to grasp the fulness of his love to me, a love undeserved. If I sing that his tomb should have been my tomb, I’m saying that his death was the death I deserved. I am identifying myself as a previous enemy of Christ and in so doing I’m recognising that I stand with those responsible for his death.
Now, what Crossman has done is important. Houston wants us to change the lyrics from “they” to “we” in order to identify ourselves with those who crucified Christ. The problem with just doing that is that we lose something important. Crossman is reminding us of the real historical events of Calvary. A lot of modern Christianity loses the actual history of the Gospels -that way lies liberalism and Gnosticism. Before we can place ourselves in the story, we need to know it and know it as historical truth. The hymn beautifully models how to do that.
This shows why it is important before we challenge and change poetry that we take time to understand it properly. This applies both to the clumsy changes and omissions in recent adaptions of old hymns but it also applies to those who go looking for heresy and racism in poetry. We can be so quick to find problems that we see them everywhere, even when the evidence points clearly against our conclusions.
This is important because what Margaret Houston has done with the hymn is similar to a problem we’ve seen with the Gospels. The New Testament writers, especially John have been accused of antisemitism because of occasions where they talk about what “The Jews” did. In fact, it seems to have been a misunderstanding of the Gospels that drove a lot of historic antisemitism. The problem with this interpretation of the Gospels is that it skates over some important factors which exclude the possibility of antisemitism.
First, whilst John and the others may speak of Jesus’ opponents as “The Jews” he does so as a Jew himself. But also he speaks about events where Jesus, a Jew himself, called Jewish followers. So when John says “The Jews” he is in fact using shorthand to describe particularly the leaders and those from around Jerusalem.
Secondly, whilst John will write about “The Jews” he also takes time to include Gentiles in the account. Soldiers accompany Judas as well as the temple guard to arrest Jesus, suggesting there is a contingent from the Roman garrison too. Jesus is handed over to Pilate and Roman soldiers mock him before finally executing him. Jew and Gentile alike were complicit in his death. All humanity was represented there. The sense in Scripture is that people physically present committed the deed but we too were guilty of his blood. As other hymns and songs point out “It was my sin that nailed him there.”[1]
So, more importantly than my thoughts on the care needed in engaging with and modifying poetry, we need to be careful that we do not mishear the Gospel story. Antisemitism is excluded because the Cross convicts us all. It does so in order that we all as enemies and strangers may be forgiven and reconciled to Christ.
[1] Stuart Townend, How deep the Father’s love for us.
—
My song is love unknown,
my Saviour’s love to me;
love to the loveless shown,
That they might lovely be.
O who am I,
that for my sake
my Lord should take
frail flesh and die?
He came from his blest throne
salvation to bestow;
but men made strange, and none
the longed-for Christ would know.
But O, my Friend,
my Friend indeed,
who at my need
his life did spend!
Sometimes they strew His way,
and His sweet praises sing;
resounding all the day
hosannas to their King.
Then ‘Crucify!’
is all their breath,
and for His death
they thirst and cry.
Why, what hath my Lord done?
What makes this rage and spite?
He made the lame to run,
he gave the blind their sight.
Sweet injuries!
yet they at these
themselves displease,
and ‘gainst him rise.
They rise, and needs will have
my dear Lord made away;
a murderer they save,
the Prince of Life they slay.
Yet cheerful He
to suffering goes,
that He His foes
from thence might free.
In life no house, no home
my Lord on earth might have;
in death no friendly tomb
but what a stranger gave.
What may I say?
Heav’n was his home;
but mine the tomb
wherein he lay.
Here might I stay and sing:
no story so divine;
never was love, dear King,
never was grief like Thine!
This is my Friend,
in Whose sweet praise
I all my days
could gladly spend.[5]
Faithroots 
1 comment
Comments are closed.