Monthly column on hymns and songs

Sometimes a single line of a hymn or song can touch the mind and heart in an unforgettable way. This may be a very personal experience. Or it may speak to thousands, and lift the hymn beyond a general level of being acceptable to being uniquely eloquent.

We don't need to wait until Good Friday to sing 'How deep the Father's love for us'. Some compositions seem more suited to that day than to any other; some were written for the occasion. Certainly this year we can be sure that Stuart Townend's song will again be widely used and valued.

Its theology is bold and biblical. Judged by the strict standards of classic hymns, it falls some way short of rhyme scheme. Watts, Wesley, or Dudley-Smith might see it as a first draft to be duly worked at. The same is true of many Kendrick or Redman songs; their advocates would say we are using the wrong yardstick. But a couple of lines mark this out for me as something special; before I come to them, a story from Iran.

Paul Hunt was there with his family for six years, in the early days of Ayatollah Khomeini's Islamic revolution. After living through danger and coming close to death, they took the painful decision to leave their Iranian friends, Christian and Muslim, and return to Britain. Had they stayed, they would certainly have been arrested, imprisoned and held hostage with their colleagues John and Audrey Coleman and Jean Waddell.

Celebrations?

In his book Inside Iran, written in the immediacy of those events, Paul describes being invited by his friends Parveez and Ali Akbar to join in the great celebrations of the martyrdom of Muhammad's grandson Hussein. For Iranians, this was even more powerful than the example of 'the Prophet' himself, for Hussein had married a Persian princess. As an Englishman, let alone a Christian, Paul felt very conspicuous and vulnerable; Parveez assured him he would be safe.

The whole nation observed this holy day. TV had only news, radios played no music, taxis were off the streets, shops were closed and draped in black. It was a long series of meetings, speeches, processions, chanting, self-flagellation. Young men lashed themselves with ropes and chains. 12 centuries earlier, Hussein and his 72 followers had been surrounded in the desert without food or water, and slaughtered by an army 4,000 strong.

The noise in Isfahan was incredible, the rhythm hypnotic. 'What is everybody chanting?' asked Paul. His Muslim companions replied, 'We are saying to Hussein, we would have come to your rescue if we could have done, but now we will join you in fighting for the truth'.

Contrast

The contrast with Good Friday could hardly be greater. Would we have stood by Jesus, come to his rescue, fought for truth? No way. We would have fled from danger, denied the Saviour, or worse. Here it is in our contemporary song which no Muslim can comprehend: 'Behold, the man upon a cross, my sin upon his shoulders; Ashamed, I hear my mocking voice call out among the scoffers. It was my sin that held him here...'

If there are other songs which make that point so clearly, I do not know them. But let's not pervert even this one. It is not that Christians are better than Muslims! Rather, we admit that we are worse. And that Jesus died to save, not loyal followers, staunch defenders, or worthy friends, but the ungodly - his enemies, persecutors, mockers and sinners. He calls us to repent and believe in him; part of our expressed response comes in the heartfelt and thoughtful singing of some nourishing biblical hymns.

It is with sadness, yet with hope in Christ, that we inform readers of the death of Chrisopher's wife, Marjorie, in February. We would commend Christopher and the rest of the family to your prayers.

His wounds, my ransom

Celebrations?

Contrast

Christopher Idle

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