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OK, it isn't a scientific piece of qualitative research but it did make me wonder a wee bit. In the Complete Mission Praise  where I went looking for the hymn I wanted for this post, only one (that is 1) hymn begins in its first line with "Holy Spirit". The number of hymns that begin with "I" and cognates of the first person singular (I'm, I'll) is eighty (that is 80).

OK, it isn't the way to do theology either, number counting, but it does make you wonder. In poetry, letters, speeches, sermons, the first words spoken have a particular rhetorical effect, they hold an important place and are significant pointers to what is to come. So what is this about an 80 to 1 ratio of hymns that begin with "I" compared with the one, solitary, lonely, single line entry for the Holy Spirit?

But then I counted the hymns whose first word is Jesus. That's better, there are 50 of them. This is getting interesting; what about God, how well does God do in the rhetorical numerical stakes? So I counted the hymns that begin with the word God and found 25 of them. So, 25 + 50 + 1 comes to 76. Oh, what about Father, our favourite theistic metaphor, and I discover there are 20 that begin with that name for God that has Dominical precedent! That makes 96 hymns begin with the names of God whether Father, Son or Spirit. But wait a minute, what about hymns that begin with Spirit and clearly refer to the Holy Spirit. That's better, there are 6 of them.

But I'm still bothered by the sheer preponderance of the first person singular, 80 of them, and on checking I discover there are 51 that have "We" and cognates, making a final score of "I / We"  131 – and Names for God, "102".

Me 131  v  God   106

If that were a basketball score it would be a convincing win, but also a respectable losing score. I can't help feeling though, that in the hymn score, the better side lost!

I did say it wasn't a peer reviewed, independently validated piece of qualitative research. But it did confirm my personal discomfort at the forwardness of the ego in our diet of songs that are meant to be hymns of praise to God. And I leave it there……

The last hymn for Pentecost week comes from Christopher Idle, and is one that celebrates the pedagogy of the Holy Spirit, according to the Gospel of John:

 

Spirit of holiness,wisdom and faithfulness,

wind of the Lord,blowing strongly and free.

Strength of our serving and joy of our worshipping,

Spirit of God, bring your fulness to me!

 

You came to interpret and teach us effectively,

all that the Saviour has spoken and done;

to glorify Jesus is all your activity,

promise and gift of the Father and Son.

 

Spirit of holiness,wisdom and faithfulness,

wind of the Lord, blowing strongly and free.

Strength of our serving and joy of our worshipping,

Spirit of God, bring your fulness to me!

 

You came with your gifts to supply all our poverty,

pouring your love on the church in her need;

You came with your fruit for our growth to maturity,

richly refreshing the souls that you feed.

 

Spirit of holiness, wisdom and faithfulness,

wind of the Lord, blowing strongly and free.

Strength of our serving and joy of our worshipping,

Spirit of God, bring your fulness to me!

  One of the most outspoken and brilliant books on the use of gender exclusive language was written by Brian Wren, the title, What Language Shall I Borrow? It is a sustained argument against male dominated language in discourse about God. Whereas today for many the worry is "the feminisation of the Church", Wren's concern has always been the "masculination of God". Words like King, Lord, Almighty, Father, Protector are words about power, strength, and are all masculine in their pronouns. Wren's complaint is, if God is spoken of in language which is gender exclusive or predominantly masculine, then it reinforces patriarchal discourse which in turn contributes to social structures which marginalise women. Equally unacceptable to Wren is that such masculine discourse and male reinforced privilege takes on biblical and theological rationalisations, which are then a completion of a circle of exclusion centred on a distorted discourse about God.This makes it absolutely crucial that the words we sing in our hymns should reflect the wholeness of human experience, male and female, young and old, in all our ethnic diversity and psychological uniqueness.

I will never forget the first sentence of a prophetic paper delivered by Ruth Edwards (pictured) at the Aberdeenshire Theological Club around 1990. Ruth was at the time Senior Lecturer in New Testament Exegesis at the University of Aberdeen, and is a recognised authority on greek language and Johannine studies. She was also one of the first women to be ordained priest in the Scottish Episcopal Church. I was privileged as her friend to be invited to stand with her following ordination in the celebratory prayer. Her paper on the theology of God and gender stereotypes began with her observation that in the imaginations of many Christians, it seems the Holy Trinity consists of a dad, his boy and a pigeon!

What followed was a carefully reasoned, biblically founded, exegetically persuasive and theologically combative exploration of the case for the ordination of women to Christian ministry. The foundation pillars of her argument were exegetical faithfulness to the biblical texts and a strong theological case for ensuring that our discourse about God was predicated on language which allowed for the full range of human experience. Metaphors we must have, but they must be rich and varied, faithful to the whole wide range of Scripture in their gender connotations. For that reason they must reflect the images not only of Father, King and Lord, but also of life-giving mother and self-giving birth, of protective tenderness and resilient resourceful parenting against all the odds and threats to her child. And much else. The prophets Hosea and Isaiah, the Genesis creation accounts, the example of Jesus in the Gospels and the contextual complexities of Paul's letters must all be weighed in to the exegetical and theological equations, and be allowed to contribute their metaphors, perspectives and diversities of discourse and context.

The love that Christ revealed was no male macho toughness, nor was it the indulgent sentimentality that never challenges or confronts. It is a love that Christ revealed as living and working in our world. Brian Wren's hymn below plays with such ideas of living, active, creative love. And in that Divine Love we all recognise and acknowledge and depend upon, are all those other loves in our lives that nurture and steward creation, that nourish by self-giving, that defend and will die for love of the child. God loves like that, Christ said so, and showed so. The feeding of hungry children, the making of home and the welcome of stranger, these are not exclusively feminine actions and dispositions, but nor are they exclusively male. Brian Wren uses these and other metaphors to explore and explain the work of God the Holy Spirit. The result is this hymn.

 There's a spirit in the air,
telling Christians everywhere:
"Praise the love that Christ revealed,
living, working in our world."

Lose your shyness, find your tongue;
tell the world what God has done:
God in Christ has come to stay,
we can see his power today.

When believers break the bread
when a hungry child is fed:
praise the love that Christ revealed
living, working in our world.

Still his Spirit leads the fight,
seeing wrong and setting right:
God in Christ has come to stay,
we can see his power today.

When a stranger's not alone,
where the homeless find a home,
praise the love that Christ revealed,
living, working in our world.

May the Spirit fill our praise,
guide our thoughts and change our ways:
God in Christ has come to stay,
we can see his power today.

There's a Spirit in the air,
calling people everywhere:
praise the love that Christ revealed,
living, working in our world.

 

Our blest Redeemer, ere He breathed
His tender last farewell,
A Guide, a Comforter bequeathed
With us to dwell.

 

He came in semblance of a dove,
With sheltering wings outspread,
The holy balm of peace and love
On earth to shed.

 

He came in tongues of living flame
To teach, convince, subdue,
All powerful as the wind He came
As viewless too.

 

He came sweet influence to impart,
A gracious, willing Guest,
While He can find one humble heart
Wherein to rest.

 

And His that gentle voice we hear,
Soft as the breath of even,
That checks each thought, that calms each fear,
And speaks of heaven.

 

And every virtue we possess,
And every victory won,
And every thought of holiness,
Are His alone.

 

Spirit of purity and grace,
Our weakness, pitying, see:
O make our hearts Thy dwelling place,
And worthier Thee.

Sometimes a hymn doesn't have to be a great hymn, or brilliant poetry, to do what a really good hymn does – which is enable praise, inspire devotion, become a conduit of prayer, remind and recall the heart to its centre in God. The first time I sang this I was a recently converted teenager who up till then loved and lived in the music of the Rolling Stones, The Who, The Beach Boys, The Hollies, and had been immersed in the dynamic diversity of 60's music, with its daring innuendo, unabashed celebration of sexuality as integral to love, and which moved to the persistent beat and rhythm of a culture in process of irreversible metamorphosis. 

I've never forgotten the culture shock in those first weeks of going to a wee Lanarkshire Baptist Church, and of an organ playing slowly, a congregation singing fervently, and the discovery of a strange new world of music that did things to your head and heart that took you to quite different places of human experience. This is a sentimental hymn, the metaphors are soft and comforting, and in my experience nearer to Herman's Hermits than to Mick Jagger complaining in public with unambiguous body language that he couldn't "get no satisfaction". 

This hymn was written by a woman who preferred seclusion and quietness to society and activity.This particular Guide and Comforter, of whom she writes, seems to go in for non-assertiveness, and gentle persuasion rather like a Quaker engaged in earnest well-meaning conversation with a pumped up tattooed biker about his language and drinking habits. The hymn is laced with the language of human sympathy – tender, sweet influence, gracious willing guest, sheltering, holy balm, gentle, soft, calm, weakness pitying. If you're not careful this could taste like condensed milk spooned straight from the tin. And where it could possibly resonate with 21st Century cultural idioms and musical lyrics, or how our far more unrestrained emotional and psychological patterns of communication could cope with this alien restraint and tentativeness, I don't know. 

And yet. Every now and then I go back to this hymn. One of the reasons is the recurring Johannine echoes. The tender last farewell refers to John 14-17, and the scared desolation of disciples who had no idea how to cope with an announcement of death. The word "bequeath" is the last loving gesture of Jesus to friends he whose hearts he was about to break. The rest of the hymn is an exposition of that word "Comforter", in an older version, "Paraclete", the one who comes alongside to strengthen and suppport and help. In our language, the One who will be there for us. It's a hymn you have to be in the mood for, and maybe that mood comes seldom, and maybe the opportunity to sing it with a congregation is now a memory, and should stay that way, for it isn't used much now. Is it? But now and again when I come across this, I read it, and recognise underneath all the layers of my critical qualifications, a hymn that when allowed to speak on its own terms, bears witness to something important about God the Holy Spirit.

 

One of the magisterial publications  in biblical studies is the massive Hatch and Redpath Concordance of the Greek Septuagint. Edwin Hatch was probably thought too liberal for promotion beyond the obscurity of his Oxford study. In addition to the monumental Concordance, he delivered both the Bampton and the Hibbert Lectures on what may seem like obscure corners of Christian scholarship. The Influence of Greek Ideas on Christianity was an early and brilliant attempt to present a picture of Greek life, thought and culture in the first centuries after Christ, and it remains a landmark study, dated now of course, but having established the cruciality of context in tracing the historical development of Christian thought.

Well, that's all well and good. Another side of this humble lexicographer, whose knowledge of Greek, Hebrew and other ancient languages was extensive and deep, was his devotion to God and the sensitivity and simplicity of his personal faith. It is a salutary fact that the writer of this simple, dependent prayer, "Breathe on me breath of God", with its unembarrassed longing for holiness and purity of love, was penned by a man soaked in scholarship, assiduous in research, meticulous in his tracing and translating of words. The hymn has long been a favourite of Evangelicals, and was for decades popular at the Keswick Convention.

I love this hymn, and often use it in my own prayers. I admire the writer for the way he integrated academic brilliance, disciplined scholarship and the deep aspirations of a heart devoted to God. His hairstyle however is something else!

Breathe on me, breath of God,
Fill me with life anew,
That I may love what Thou dost love,
And do what Thou wouldst do.

Breathe on me, breath of God,
Until my heart is pure,
Until with Thee I will one will,
To do and to endure.

Breathe on me, breath of God,
Blend all my soul with Thine,
Until this earthly part of me
Glows with Thy fire divine.

Breathe on me, breath of God,
So shall I never die,
But live with Thee the perfect life
Of Thine eternity.

I have sung this hymn in a choir, in a congregation, listened to it on headphones in my study, playing loudly in the car, and recited it quietly in my head at prayer. Sanctification is not determined by what we do for God, but by the work of God. The flame of faith can only be lit from outside and from above, and the Wesleys were passionate in their conviction that human salvation and holiness arises from the response of the heart, mind and will to the universal prevenient grace of God.

Nowhere in this hymn is the Holy Spirit mentioned, but everywhere is presupposed. Yet Wesley's sense of the full activity and of the Triune God in all the work and works of salvation means he prays without embarrassment to Father, Son and Spirit. That first verses is a distilled concentrate of human longing despite deep self-knowledge of unworthiness. The second verse is dominated by the presence of that long multi-syllabic "inextinguishable", preceded by one syllable words, and followed by the trembling return of the fire of God's love to its source, in every act of prayer and praise. Early Methodists saw themselves as glad tiireless workers for Jesus, as all serious disciples must be, so the order of the verbs is important, 'to work and speak and think for thee"; and that can only happen when Jesus confirms and makes the desires of faith strong. But obedience and faithfulness are the human side of living the gift of grace, guarding the holy fire, and stirring up the gift. Only then, ready for all thy perfect will, and only in the life fulfilled in love and holiness, is the giving of our lives in sacrificial service complete.

And all of this is the inward work of the Holy Spirit, and the responsive love and obedience of the human heart in faithfully following after the one who came from above.

1 O thou who camest from above
the pure celestial fire to impart,
kindle a flame of sacred love
on the mean altar of my heart.

2 There let it for thy glory burn
with inextinguishable blaze,
and trembling to its source return,
in humble prayer and fervent praise.

3 Jesus, confirm my heart's desire
to work and speak and think for thee;
still let me guard the holy fire,
and still stir up thy gift in me.

4 Ready for all thy perfect will,
my acts of faith and love repeat,
till death thy endless mercies seal,
and make the sacrifice complete.

On Pentecost weekend I'm reading some of the hymns to the Holy Spirit that are rich theological celebrations of the Spirit of God.  For the next week I'll post one each day as an acknowledgement of the Giving Gift of God, The Go Between God, The Spirit of Life, The Light of Truth and Fire of Love, The Creator Spirit, and The Source of Life. These are titles of books in my library, and together they begin to open up the ruchness and diversity of the ministry of the Holy Spirit in the Creation, in the Church, and in us.

1 Holy Spirit, Lord of Light,
From Thy clear celestial height,
Thy pure beaming radiance give:
Come, Thou Father of the poor!
Come, with treasures which endure!
Come, Thou Light of all that live!

2 Thou, of all consolers best,
Visiting the troubled breast,
Dost refreshing peace bestow;
Thou in toil art comfort sweet,
Pleasant coolness in the heat,
Solace in the midst of woe.

3 Light immortal! Light divine!
Visit Thou these hearts of Thine,
And our inmost being fill;
Where Thou art not, man hath naught,
Nothing good in deed or thought,
Nothing free from taint of ill.

4 Heal our wounds, our strength renew;
On our dryness pour Thy dew;
Wash the stains of guilt away;
Bend the stubborn heart and will;
Melt the frozen, warm the chill;
Guide the steps that go astray.

5 Thou, on those who evermore
Thee confess and Thee adore,
In Thy sevenfold gifts, descend:
Give them comfort when they die,
Give them life with Thee on high,
Give them joys that never end.

Amen.

"Prayer is a gift of God, and a work of his grace…" Those words were written 50 years ago in a book with the telling title, Reality and Prayer. I like that connection. Sometimes prayer is wishful thinking, desperate pleading, meditative reflection and even faithful if passionless routine. I've done all these. Often enough I've thought prayer is something that starts with my decision, my inclination, my need. But here is someone reminding me it is God's initiative, gift, work, grace, invading my life, nudging my mind, kick-starting a relationship I'm in danger of neglecting.

The reality of prayer is a problem in a world where we've become used to scientific explanations, accustomed to problem solving by technology, presuming overall control of our environment, security and safety as built in mechanisms of a developed society. But that deeper reality beneath the surface of things, the presence and power of the God who is both beyond and in the midst, the sense of a personal Presence who seeks us and finds us – that is gift, grace, mystery. And it may be that the way we now live our lives compels the God who seeks us, to first wound our hearts with what the author of the Cloud of Unknowing called "a dart of longing love", in order for us to register on our everyday radar, the real presence of the God we are way too busy to make time for. 

Faithful friendship is when someone is committed to "staying in touch", "thinking about you", "being there for you", and so the text, the email, the phone call, the card, becomes a sacrament, a hard copy of those emotions of care, affection, love, attentiveness, thoughtful kindness and many others that together sustain a relationship that has been allowed to grow into part of who we are. Prayer is the gift of the faithful friendship of God.

Edwin Muir tells of just such a moment in his own life when God in grace and gift addressed the careless poet at bedtime, and re-awakened a friendship gone stale. It is one of the utterly authentic personal stories of being arrested by God.

“Going to bed alone, I suddenly found myself (I was taking off my waistcoat) reciting the Lord’s Prayer, in a loud, emphatic voice  – a thing I had not done for many years – with deep urgency and profound and disturbed emotion.  When I went on I became more composed; as if my soul had been empty and craving, and were now being replenished, it grew still; every word had a strange fullness of meaning which astonished and delighted me.  It was late; I had sat up reading; I was sleepy; but as I stood in the middle of the floor, half undressed, saying the prayer over and over again, meaning after meaning sprang from it , overcoming me again with joyful surprise; and I realised that that simple petition was always universal and always inexhaustible, and day by day sanctified human life.”

 

The first discussion starters of a new Government may not be the most important, or the ones that will come on to the statute books immediately. But they signal intent. Less than a week after the election we are already into the big stuff. When it comes to politics and human flourishing it doesn't get much bigger, or more important than Human Rights.

During the last Government coalition the UK courts found themselves in significant tension with the ECHR Courts about such matters as the deportation of terrorists, anti-terrorist measures and is currently facing an enquiry into how certain welfare cuts are impacting unfairly on disabled and vulnerable people. There are a number of informative articles from different perspectives which have already commented on and critiqued the proposed Bill of Rights as a replacement for the 1998 Human Rights Act (HRA). But this is where, exactly where, I find myself already at considerable odds with the Conservative Government.

Why is the United Kingdom even considering unhitching itself from the accountability and international intentionality that comes from a Convention agreed after the devastation and inhumanity of the Second World War? How does it serve the interests of British people to be out of step with Europe on a matter of such fundamental moral and political importance? Put more pointedly, what exactly in the provisions outlined in the image above does the Conservative Government object to? More pointedly still, why is the word 'human' omitted from the term British Bill of Rights? And why is the word British deemed to be so damned important that it trumps our international obligations and existing legal commitments, which be it noted were undersigned by unanimous and cross party Parliamentary approval?

When an appeal to human rights is seen by a Government as an inconvenience, and a higher Court in Brussels is seen as obstructive and inimical of our national interest, then the time has come to worry, to argue, and to dissent. Bella Sankey is the Director of Liberty, and a barrister specialising in Human Rights. Her piece in the Huffington Post is well worth reading, if only because she has been party to the debates, the issues and understands where the head of steam is coming from to push through the repeal of the HRA. You can find it here.

One more thought. The HRA cannot be repealed in Scotland without the explicit consent of the Scottish Parliament. There is not a snowball's chance in hell that Scotland will support the repeal of the HRA, and even the English broadsheets acknowledge, and largely applaud that. If Mr Cameron is serious about wanting to heal the divisions in the United Kingdom, then he needs to try harder to understand Scotland. The repeal of the HRA is such a regressive and arrogant piece of Westminster hubris that the attempt will be a decisive own goal against that stated intent, and the Scottish people will be forced to acknowledge a major cultural rift opening up at the level of international law, moral imperatives, national identity and ties with the international community, and the social ethos that is the relational bond between the nations on these islands.

And all the above is argued on grounds of moral philosophical, political and social ethics. As a Christian I find the weakening of law which protects the vulnerable and holds the State accountable is also theologically insupportable. Until the alternative legislation is produced, and shows itself to be an improvement in that it enhances and strengthens the human rights of everyone in this country, I am settled in opposition to the repeal of HRA. The pragmatic urgencies of a Government lacking imagination and moral parameters notwithstanding, the intended repeal of the HRA by a Government commanding 37% of the national vote, is another powerful argument for electoral reform.      

A wee while ago I posted a reflection on clouds. Since then I came across this book which looks like an intriguing read. It's now on my wants list of exegetical studies on Psalms. Here's the blurb.

The weather is all around us all the time. From ancient times people have attributed the weather to the work of the gods. Ancient Israel shared this perception. The book of Psalms reflects theologically significant views on the weather that have not, until now, been fully explored. In this meteorological survey of the Psalms, whimsically called "meteorotheology," every reference to the weather is translated in accordance with the known climate and weather of ancient Israel. Each verse is discussed with particular attention to the function of the weather in the hymnal of ancient Israel. This book will be a resource for translators, clergy, and scholars with an interest in how the weather impacted religious outlooks in ancient Israel. Readers will learn that some expected associations, such as thunder and lightning, did not influence Israelite views on the natural world in the same way that they do today. Yahweh was God of the weather, and the Psalms frequently use this paradigm as a reason for both praise and fear of the Lord.