This week is a Johannine week for three reasons.

First, I will finally get to meet someone I've come to know on Facebook, Professor Paul Anderson. Paul is a leading Johannine scholar, who has written widely and edited dozens of books in  the prestigious series produced by Brill. Paul will be leading a seminar here on the Aberdeen campus on “Jesus in Johannine Perspective—Inviting a Fourth Quest for Jesus.” 

I first came across Paul's name when I read his major monograph The Christology of the Fourth Gospel, which is based on his doctoral thesis at the University of Glasgow, which is another connection, as we share Glasgow as our alma mater.The magisterial Johannine scholars Raymond Brown, D. Moody Smith and C. K. Barrett wrote admiring and appreciative reviews of Anderson's study of John 6 as a primary text in exploring the Christology of John.  

Beyond that Paul has been an encouraging friend to those of us likewise fascinated by the gospel of John. Questions, requests for guidance in reading, and at times a generous sending of some of his own articles, all combine to make him a reliable go-to friend and senior scholar. I look forward to meeting him in person.

Paul is a Quaker and his faith commitment both disciplines and enriches his academic work. He is in the tradition of Elton Trueblood and Richard Foster, committed to an expression of Quaker spirituality that is engaged with contemporary life and thought, while seeking to be faithful in understanding and applying the insights of his own tradition. 

Continuing the Johannine week theme, secondly, on Sunday past, my long time and very good friend Ken Roxburgh was preaching on John chapter 4, and the Samaritan woman at St Paul's and St George's church in Edinburgh. He told me he would be taking a positive view of her, and offering an alternative interpretation to the pervasive view of her as an immoral woman in an atypical marital situation, and the source of much local scandal. Ken argues that the woman was one of the first couriers of the good news, commissioned by Jesus to push the message of the gospel into the wider and furthest margins of Jewish first century faith. That chimes exactly with where my own interpretation has come to rest, and such an interpretation opens up a whole range of new insights. You can hear Ken's sermon by clicking here. 

Unconnected to these two friends tackling Johannine texts in different ways and for different purposes,  a couple of weeks ago I borrowed The Woman at the Well, by Janeth Norfleete Day, a scholarly monograph published by Brill in 2002, some time before Paul became an editor for the publisher. It is a careful, clear thinking analysis of the text and its reception in sermons, commentary and art through the centuries. This is the kind of biblical scholarship that one way or another preachers are required to read as present day exegetes and expositors of the text, entrusted with exploring its meaning and its significance for our understanding and practice of faith. I think it would not be possible to read this book and weigh its evidence, and then be content to continue to slander one of the first women entrusted with the good news as an apostle to her own neighbourhood. More of that when I write a separate post on the argument of the book and on that central text of John  on how God's good news can't be pinned down to our limited expectations. 

So this week I finally get to meet Paul who kens stuff (a lot of stuff!) about John; I was able to listen to my close friend Ken, preaching on a key text for Christology and mission (and he also kens stuff!). And in addition, I'm finishing reading a Johannine monograph on The Samaritan Woman, that satisfyingly destabilises an interpretive tradition that does scant justice to the importance and truth of a long conversation by a well in Samaria, between Jesus and a woman whose life experience and spiritual alertness were life transforming for her and her community, as she sees and responds to the revelation of the One who came to her as Living Water.

Aye, a Johannine study week, of a gospel that like the living water it describes, "is like a well of water, springing up to eternal life." 

Monday

Romans 16.1-2 “I commend to you our sister Phoebe, a deacon of the church in Cenchreae.  I ask you to receive her in the Lord in a way worthy of his people and to give her any help she may need from you, for she has been the benefactor of many people, including me.”

This is Paul’s character reference for Phoebe, one of his most faithful supporters. She was entrusted to deliver Paul’s letter, read it to them and explain its contents. She was a leader in the church, and a financial supporter, “benefactor of many people”. Networking, building connections, and nurturing fellowship; from the beginning the church was to be a community of mutual support and practical kindness. “Benefactor of many people” – that’s a good mission goal for any church!

Tuesday

Romans 16.3 “Greet Priscilla and Aquila, my fellow-workers in Christ Jesus. They risked their lives for me. Not only I, but all the churches of the Gentiles, are grateful to them.”

If Phoebe was generous, Priscilla and Aquila were courageous, and persistent in their friendship with Paul. One of Paul’s favourite compound words is ‘fellow-worker.’ It’s a good way of describing what it is we do in a Christian community – work together, support each other, and be there for and with each other. Paul trusted these two, they had form as his friends, and they had his back! Be like Priscilla and Aquila!

Wednesday

 Romans 16.5 “Greet my dear friend Epenetus, who was the first convert to Christ in the province of Asia.”

This is all we know of Epenetus, but it’s enough. The first convert in Asia, the first sign that the Gospel is for all peoples, a pioneer of faith and a testimony to the radical call of Christ in whom there is neither Jew nor Gentile. Paul calls him a much loved friend, someone who knew exactly what Paul was about, understood his heart, and could give a character reference for Paul himself. There is a depth of fellowship in Christ that knits hearts together into shared purposes and shared stories.

Thursday

Romans 16.6 “Greet Mary who worked very hard for you.”

Another single mentioned name. Who was Mary of Rome? We have no idea. But Paul chooses his words carefully – she worked very hard. She saw what needed done and made it happen. She took initiatives and got things started. She wasn’t only a self-starter but someone whose energy got others involved. Go on! Be like Mary! 

Friday

Romans 16.7a “Greet Andronicus and Junia, my relatives who have been in prison with me.

These two have been with Paul in some of the darkest places. The bonds of fellowship forged in shared hardship for Christ are particularly strong. They may well be husband and wife, and they are to be respected and listened to. Their leadership style is rooted in the publicly known cost of their faithfulness to Christ, and its authenticity enacted in their willingness to sit beside Paul as fellow-prisoners.

Saturday

Romans 16.7b “They (Andronicus and Junia) are outstanding among the apostles, and they were in Christ before I was.”

Paul choosing his words carefully again – outstanding service as Apostles. As they say in Glasgow, “Pure quality!” There’s neither male nor female in Christ when it comes to apostolic leadership. Paul’s admiration for them is obvious and genuine – and they are his seniors, “they were in Christ before I was.” Too much is made of leadership as authority, strategy and status. That’s not the way of Christ. Long before it became a thing in our own media soaked culture, Paul was pointing out the real influencers! Those like Andronicus and Junia, whose lives in Christ are ‘outstanding’, and whose ministry is exemplary.

Sunday

Romans 16.13 “Greet Rufus, chosen in the Lord, and his mother, who has been a mother to me too.”

Rufus may well be the son of Simon of Cyrene – see Mark 15.21. That gives even more significance to him being ‘chosen in the Lord’, the son of the man who bore Christ’s cross to Calvary. His mother would be revered in the churches, and clearly had become a close and supportive friend to Paul. Her inclusion in this long list of Paul’s friends and supporters represents a line of connection all the way back to Jesus, and the events from which our Christian faith was born.

……………………..

The communion of saints is the living environment of grace, the lived reality of the love of God in Christ transcending time and space. God continues to create a people inhabited by the Lord of the Church, energised by the Spirit of Him who raised Jesus from the dead, and called to make Christ known. These verses are more than a list of greetings; they are the sacred yet human threads of life in the fellowship in Christ.

Brother, sister, let me serve you,

let me be as Christ to you;

pray that I may have the grace to

let you be my servant too. Amen.

What is the connection between The Daily Express and a prayer meeting?

It's today's headline: "MIGRANT PROTESTS WON'T STOP US DOING WHAT IS RIGHT.' That is a quotation from James Cleverly, Home Secretary. 

The variation on this high moral claim was made popular by David Cameron's banal mantra about "doing the right thing", which meant doing what the Government decides is 'the right thing.'

Then there was the prayer meeting last night where we were praying that our Government would "do the right thing."

But of course it all depends on who gets to decide what is right, what they mean by 'right', and the moral criteria used in the definition.

As a Christian, and as a member of the public, I have a different view of what 'the right thing' is when it comes to how we treat asylum seeking people. 

Love you neighbour as yourself. Act justly, love mercy, walk humbly with your God. Offer support, welcome, food, safety to those whose lives depend on it. Treat people with compassion as well as fairness. Taking care of the language used to describe those who are 'other'. Making laws that comply with international law and human rights obligations. There are more, but these will do for now.

Last night at a special prayer meeting, a group of Aberdeen Christians met to pray for and with those seeking asylum in our country. These men are mostly from Iran, many of them have fled persecution, and most have little or no English.

We sang two hymns in Farsi. We prayed in English but all said Amen together. We prayed that the Rwanda policy would be withdrawn; that decision-makers would work with criteria that included compassion, justice and empathy; that those detained for deportation would be supported by good legal representation; that voices would continue to be raised in opposition to policies that harm people and rhetoric that demonises other human beings; that agencies and third sector organisations would join their voices to advocate for policies that are humane rather than punitive.

If deporting asylum seekers to Rwanda is, according to the Home Secretary, doing the right thing for the British public, were we doing the right thing in pleading with God to change hearts, change policies, and even change the holders of power who have made such laws? 

So, on the one hand, a prayer meeting with asylum seekers and Scottish Christians. On the other hand a tabloid newspaper headline claiming the high moral ground for the UK Government. It's an intriguing collision of moral statements both claiming and aiming "to do the right thing". As a follower of One who stood before human courts that wanted rid of him regardless of due process, I am clear about what the right thing is. 

These include, but are not limited to:

• Safe routes of travel for those seeking asylum.
• International co-operation to provide workable strategies for a global shift in migration patterns.
• Properly resourced Border Force facilities and investment in processing systems to deal with asylum applications quickly and fairly.
• An end to the rhetoric of division, demonisation and scare-mongering as a political playbook.
• An end to lying, misuse and distortion of data, using the plight of vulnerable people to stoke public fears for political advantage, and as justification for repressive policies.

That is now my prayer list. And each time I pray I have in mind multiple stories of people whose names I know, whose faces I recognise, and whose welfare is a sacred obligation conferred as a trust by Jesus: "I tell you the truth, whatever you did for one of the least of these my brothers and sisters, you did for me."   

This new tapestry is based on only two lines from George Herbert's poem, 'The Flower.' (Printed at the end, below) They happen to be lines that resonate in quite startling ways with my own spiritual experience of surprise at the seasons of the heart, and living through each year of life in the rhythm of growth, flourishing, fruitfulness and withdrawal. 

"Who would have thought my shrivel'd heart

     Could have recovered greennesse?" 

'The Flower' is one of those poems by George Herbert that defies mere exposition, as if parsing the words, and explaining the syntax, and awareness of the context in which such poetry is written, bears decisive relation to why the poem was written at all. Herbert's own explanation of the poems we now know as The Temple, should be enough to alert us that we are standing on the holy ground of another man's dealings and pleadings and negotiations with God. Even angels are careful where they put their feet in such spiritual terrain. 

Entrusting the manuscript of the poems to his friend Nicholas Ferrar through an intermediary, he passed on the message that the poems were "a picture of the many spiritual conflicts that passed betwixt God and my soul…" In these poems we are overhearing the struggles of a soul, the conversations between a man and the God he is determined to serve, and love, and know in the intimacy of trust. But a God who is also beyond understanding, whose thoughts are not our thoughts and whose ways are as likely to baffle and perplex as much as comfort and guide.  

The Temple records Herbert's inner climate, his responses to circumstances, his attempt at articulating the emotional fluctuations and frustrations of his desire to love and know God. But so much is ambiguous, unpredictable, well beyond longed for certainties and settledness of heart. Herbert is expert in the spiritual anxieties of one who both loves and fears God, longing for God's affirmation yet often feeling God is indifferent, or worse, disapproving, and so more distant than near, and more judgemental than accepting.

Then again, few have described the loving acceptance of God with more wondering trust, and when Herbert looks on the Cross the reader is drawn into the poet's awe, a combination of explicit description and adoring wonder at the mystery of divine love personified and crucified in Jesus. With many others I think 'Love III' is Herbert's finest poem, and one of the most moving accounts of God's love that I know. That first line! "Love bade me welcome. Yet my soul drew back / guilty of dust and sin." 

Back to 'The Flower', which comes quite late in the collection which may have more to do with Herbert's editors than any chronological sequence he might have planned. It is one of the poems that says more than our best scholarship and expositions can uncover. It is a deeply personal account of the inner impact of all those 'spiritual conflicts' he has endured along the road of his 'heart in pilgrimage.' There is no attempt to analyse or rationalise. Instead the reader overhears prayer as conversation with God, a combination of wonder and complaint, acceptance and questioning, gladness and perplexity, between intimates but of unequals. 

'The Flower' is an account of a plant that seems to be flourishing, but then as the seasons pass, begins to lose its life sources, withers and goes underground for the winter. And early in the poem occur the two lines which I chose to explore in a tapestry.

I began by reading about 17th Century gardens. What flowers were in common use in English gardens around 1630? What about French and Italian influences on Renaissance gardens being planned and planted in the great houses of England in Herbert's time? What about the garden as a place of meditation and prayer, at least for those who could afford them? I found a lot of what I was looking for in Stanley Stewart, The Enclosed Garden, which is a brilliant study of the use of the garden image in 17th Century poetry. 

Next I went looking for the flowers that were available seasonally in the period, and selected those most likely to be common in Herbert's time. The tapestry is a combination of these research findings, and worked around the two lines about 'recovered greenesse'. In the four corners, from bottom left we go clockwise through winter, spring, summer and autumn (the one illustrated). Put in floral terms, hellebore and crocus with winter jasmine; narcissus and tulips; yellow lupin and rambling rose; then aster and rose hips. 

The central square panel is from a plan for a formal parterre garden of the period, like such gardens, governed by both geometry and symmetry in providing the beds for the botany! There is a great deal of 'greennesse', in tones and shapes giving both vitality and vibrance to the recovered flourishing of the garden. Sunrise in spring and sunset in autumn, snow in winter and blue skies in summer – the four seasons of a garden – and for Herbert, the changing seasons in the life of the soul and its relation to God.

The overall aim in this tapestry is modest; to give some visual clues to two lines expressing astonishment at God's grace and the poet's returned creativity, energy and spiritual recovery. In that sense the tapestry is itself a way of celebrating what Henry Scougal, the 17th Century Aberdeen Professor of Divinity called in his small but celebrated essay on the spiritual life, The Life of God in the Soul of Man. 

On one personal note, I have found the synergy between Herbert's poems and designing tapestry to be a fascinating inner conversation. Being familiar with the poems from many readings of the book, I'm fascinated with the ways in which my own inner responsiveness to poems over the years, influences and suggests ways of giving visual expression to spiritual experience. That makes each of these tapestries very personal, perhaps even idiosyncratic. But I hope some of the explanation offered above at least helps make sense of what on earth I think I'm about!  

How fresh, O Lord, how sweet and clean
Are Thy returns! ev’n as the flow’rs in Spring,
To which, besides their own demean
The late-past frosts tributes of pleasure bring;
Grief melts away
Like snow in May,
As if there were no such cold thing.
Who would have thought my shrivel’d heart
Could have recover’d greennesse? It was gone
Quite under ground; as flow’rs depart
To see their mother-root, when they have blown,
Where they together
All the hard weather,
Dead to the world, keep house unknown.
These are Thy wonders, Lord of power,
Killing and quickning, bringing down to Hell
And up to Heaven in an houre;
Making a chiming of a passing-bell.
We say amisse
This or that is;
Thy word is all, if we could spell.
O that I once past changing were,
Fast in Thy Paradise, where no flower can wither;
Many a Spring I shoot up fair,
Offring at Heav’n, growing and groning thither,
Nor doth my flower
Want a Spring-showre,
My sinnes and I joyning together.
But while I grow in a straight line,
Still upwards bent, as if Heav’n were mine own,
Thy anger comes, and I decline:
What frost to that? what pole is not the zone
Where all things burn,
When Thou dost turn,
And the least frown of Thine is shown?
And now in age I bud again,
After so many deaths I live and write;
I once more smell the dew and rain,
And relish versing: O, my onely Light,
It cannot be
That I am he
On whom Thy tempests fell all night.
These are Thy wonders, Lord of love,
To make us see we are but flow’rs that glide;
Which when we once can find and prove,
Thou hast a garden for us where to bide.
Who would be more,
Swelling through store,
Forfeit their Paradise by their pride.

Monday

Psalm 95.1 “Come let us sing for joy to the Lord; let us shout aloud to the Rock of our salvation.”

This ancient poet reminds us that joyful shouting isn’t only for rock concerts and football matches. God is reason enough for joy because in a world that changes rapidly and unpredictably God is Rock solid. The rock is a metaphor for permanence. In fact Jesus said if you build your life on the rock of obedience to His teaching, your ‘house’ will stand firm when the inevitable life storms come. So yes! That’s reason enough for joy! “Come ye that love the Lord, and let your joys be known.”

Tuesday

Psalm 95.2 “Let us come before him with thanksgiving and extol him with music and song,”

Joyful shouting isn’t a mindless positivity hoping to create a feel-good factor. Joy arises from a grateful heart and is disciplined in song and prayer. Saying thank you is the least we can offer for the kindness of someone who has surprised us with unlooked for generosity. That’s what God does, every day we wake up: “Thou hast given so much to me. Give one thing more, a grateful heart.”

Wednesday

Psalm 95.3 “For the Lord is the great God, the great King above all gods.

God is that to which we give our whole lives. Whatever matters more than anything else, whatever we would sell our soul for, that to us is ‘god’. The Psalm-poet claims that the God of Israel is God the first and foremost. Jesus said just as clearly, the first commandment is to love “the Lord your God with all your heart, soul, mind and strength.” God revealed to us in Jesus is the One whose love and grace has surprised us with unlooked for generosity”. “Crown him the Lord of heaven, enthroned in worlds above; Crown him the king, to whom is given the wondrous name of Love.”

Thursday

Psalm 95. 4 “In his hands are the depths of the earth, and the mountain peaks belong to him.”

However low we fall, however high we climb, God is there. Height and depth, length and breadth – the four dimensional reach and range of the gracious mercy of God is inescapable. For a pilgrim people, deep valleys and mountain ridges were hard places to navigate. But God is there. He holds the deeps, he owns the mountain heights. This too is reason for praise, and to extol him with music and song: “Let all the world in every corner sing: My God and King.”

Friday

Psalm 95.5 “The sea is his for he made it, and his hands formed the dry land.”

For Israel the sea was a mixed blessing. Many of their enemies came from the sea. The sea itself was a symbol of danger, trouble, and serious threats to life. But just as the boundaries of sea and land are set by God, so whatever the circumstances of life that can at times come crashing around us, they don’t overpower God. When Jesus calmed the storm he was enacting this visible and credible authority of God – “even the wind and seas obey him." “Eternal Father strong to save, whose arm has bound the restless wave, who bids the mighty ocean deep, its own appointed limits keep; O hear us when we cry to Thee, for those in Peril on the sea.”

Saturday

Psalm 95.6 “Come, let us bow down and worship, let us kneel before the Lord our maker.”

“Come” is an invitation, a bidding word of encouragement. We live in a culture that resists the humility and readiness for service that the bent knee signifies. And by the way, gratitude is closely related to humility; the acknowledgement of our indebtedness presupposes the relinquishment of our pride. When we worship our whole being becomes an offering, a song of gratitude, a statement of intent to love and serve God wherever we are. “O worship the King, all glorious above; O gratefully sing his power and his love…”

Sunday

Psalm 95.7 “For he is our God, and we are the people of his pasture, the flock under his care.”

To say “he is our God” doesn’t mean we own God, or have a claim on God. But it does mean we belong to God and are kept under his care. Verses like this help us make sense of Jesus’ words: “I am the good shepherd, I know my sheep and my sheep know me.” When we say “He is our God” that isn’t a possessive statement, but the glad recognition of a relationship of commitment, it is to find joy in God’s care and God’s giving of God’s own self in his Son, to be the Good Shepherd of his people. “The King of Love my shepherd is, whose goodness faileth never; I nothing lack if I am his and he is mine forever.”

O worship the Lord in the beauty of holiness;
bow down before him, his glory proclaim;
with gold of obedience, and incense of lowliness,
kneel and adore him: the Lord is his name.

"Let all the world in every corner sing:

My God and King. 

When George Herbert wrote about the cosmic praise song coming from every corner of the world he was not announcing his membership of the flat earth society. He was using terminology that would be familiar enough to those who would read and sing his poem, 'Antiphon 1'.

The phrase "the four corners of the earth" occur several times in the King James Version, by Herbert's time becoming increasingly familiar as the biblical translation of choice. Commentators cite Psalm 95.1-4 as a textual source echoed in Herbert's poem. In particular, "In his hands are all the corners of the earth." (v4) By the early 17th Century, science and cosmology had established by experimentation and empirical observation that planets are round – Galileo and Kepler had seen to that. The affirmation that "In his  hands are all the corners of the earth" is an assertion of God's sovereignty over all creation, God's presence in and through all that exists, and therefore the trustworthiness and benevolence of the one who is "My God and king."

There is an all-inclusiveness in the invitation to every corner of the world to sing the Creator-Redeemer's praise. Indeed, God is not truly praised until the reverberations of worship are heard and felt from all the world and every corner. One of the more suggestive and plausible explanations of what Herbert might mean by "the four corners of the earth" comes from Nicholas Jones:   

"We are to envision a "chorus" of affirmation, a group agreed on a common statement of worship. In a schismatic and doubting world,that's no small step. This grand chorus imagines an even grander choral unity-that "all the world" might sing this one common text. Apparently, heretics have been converted, deep hatreds among the people of the world have been miraculously settled; and the world joins together to welcome its "God and King!" ¹

Herbert was writing in a context where such communal and confessional agreement was very far from actuality, but it was legitimate aspiration and a vision to be sought and prayed for. 

Of the other occurrences of "the four corners of the earth" the most interesting is Isaiah 11.11-12. The prophet addresses a dispersed people and speaks of a great gathering initiated, instigated and implemented by God – it will all be God's doing as he acts in sovereign faithfulness.

Isaiah 11.12 reads: "He will raise an ensign for the nations, and will assemble the outcasts of Israel, and gather the dispersed of Judah from the four corners of the earth." But these prophecies of return and regathering follow on from a verse which is less a geography lesson than a theological reconfiguring of history, both of the people of God and the other peoples of earth over whom God is also Lord. Isaiah's visions of a renewed creation, a restored and returned Israel, and of a Messiah as the light of the nations have a universal impulse.

Isaiah 11.11 reads: "In that day the Lord will extend his hand yet a second time to recover the remnant which is left of his people from Assyria, from Egypt, from Pathros, from Ethiopia, from Elam, from Shinar, from Hamath, and from the costlands of the sea." John Sawyer is quick to point out that Hamath is in the North, Egypt is in the South, Elam and Shinar in the East, and the coastlands to the West. Isaiah the poet more than hints at the four primary points of the compass, the four corners of the earth. ²

Was Herbert likely to build a poem around an obscure Isaianic text? He was undoubtedly familiar with such prominent canonical texts as Psalms, Isaiah,the Gospels, and the Pauline Epistles. Whether or not there is dependence on, or allusion to this Isaianic text, its explicit use of the phrase "the four corners of the earth" in 17th Century translation of the biblical text puts it well within Herbert's semantic options. In addition, the biblical context of communal gathering and return to the place of blessing and promise, makes Isaiah's text an important reference point for the central exhortation of the poem, and the longings of the poet for Christians  from 'every corner' of the world, to sing from the same hymn sheet in choral unity and personal confession:

"My God and King." 

In other words, Herbert's own historical context of the people of God dispersed, divided, and at odds with each other, make 'Antiphon 1' a profoundly aspirational hymn, a longing that what is not yet true, should some day, please God, become actual. "Let all the world in every corner sing" is the poet's hymn of hoped for unity and harmony, a song of praise from every corner of the world to the God "in whose hands are all the corners of the earth." (Psalm 95.4)

^{1 Nicholas Jones, 'Texts and Contexts: Two Languages in George Herbert's Poetry.' Studies in Philology, Vol. 79, No. 2, (Spring 1982) P.166}

^{2. John Sawyer, Isaiah vol 1. DSB. Saint Andrews Press, 1984. P. 125. Gordon McConville, Isaiah. BCOTPB, 2023. Pages 185-189.}

On a summer evening forty years ago, the choir and congregation of Thomas Coats Memorial Church, Paisley, sang a Seventeenth Century hymn by George Herbert. The sun slanted through the lightly tinted stain glass windows, falling across the chancel. Old oak choir stalls and angels glowed in mellow golds of shafted sunlight. The Hill organ was played by Derek Norval who also conducted the choir. The word magical is too easy and lazy to describe those few minutes of heavenly music – mystical, mysterious, glorious – or perhaps gracious, in the theologically charged sense of full of grace, or as a personal experience, touched by grace.

Here are the words of the hymn we sang:

1 Let all the world in every corner sing:
My God and King!
The heavens are not too high,
His praise may thither fly;
The earth is not too low,
His praises there may grow.
Let all the world in every corner sing:
My God and King!

2 Let all the world in every corner sing:
My God and King!
The church with psalms must shout,
No door can keep them out;
But, more than all, the heart
Must bear the largest part.
Let all the world in every corner sing:
My God and King!

Praise is a recurring theme and a repeated exhortation woven within and throughout The Temple, Herbert's collection of poems. The two line refrain is both urgent and expansive. Leaving aside the advancing knowledge of cosmology from Galileo's telescope onwards, Herbert's invitation to praise and worship goes out to all four corners of the globe. And the four word acclamation, "My God and King",  is the distilled theology of the Psalms. The repeated refrain injects into the text "the steady massiveness of a group collectively affirming a premeditated truth." ¹

The first verse acknowledges a two dimensional way of seeing the world and the cosmos, the heavens and the earth, above and below. The second verse is similarly bi-focal, the church and the heart, the congregation and the individual, the liturgical and the personal. Together they gather the diversities of human experience and earthly existence into the choral praise of creation and humanity; it is creation praise in a cosmic nutshell -"Let all the world in every corner sing: My God and King."

As often in Herbert's poems, the psalter provides the poet with vocabulary for praise. "The church with psalms must shout!" That surprising word 'shout' recalls familiar exhortations: "Let us make a joyful noise…let us come into his presence with thanksgiving, let us make a joyful noise to him with songs of praise." (Psalm 95.1-2; cf. Ps 100) As one of Herbert's more recent editors notes with reference to the word 'shout' as used by Herbert, he probably had in mind memories of "the inelegant sound of a rustic congregation bellowing the metrical psalms in the barbarous Sternhold and Hopkins translation often included in copies of the Book of Common Prayer." ²

The wings of praise enable all voices to fly joyfully upwards and towards God, while the praises of earth and soil and all creation, accompanied by human voices, grow upwards. This is an interesting view of praise as a spiritual discipline that in its practice and exuberance, encourages and fertilises spiritual growth. Not only so. Praise is made imperative in verse 2, "The church with psalms must shout." Praise is the beating heart of a Christian community, a sign of communal cardiac health in relation to God. The doors can be closed but the music will be heard anyway, praise will ascend, a joyful noise will be made. The peace of God may well pass all understanding, but in heaven praise is always a welcome interruption!

But then again, not only so. It is the heart that must sustain the music, and creates and carries the energy and devotion that vitalises and renders worthy of God "the joyful noise of praise and thanksgiving." All the world, every corner, heaven and earth, each church and every heart, a full orchestration of creation praise making symphony to the one who is "My God and King."

But the Church's praise must include the communal and the personal, chorus and solo. And the solo part is the 'larger part', demanding of skill and effort, and the ability to sustain the music. And just in case the soloist forgets their place, Bloch is right in his reminder: "Antiphon 1 tells us that the heart does not sing solo; its song is always heard against a chorus of many voices."⁴

"Let all the world in every corner sing:

My God and King!

These were the words we sang on a June evening 40 years ago, with a robed choir, a Hill organ, a small but engaged congregation, in a large nonconformist replica cathedral with magnificent acoustics, in fading sunlight softening towards evening. George Herbert would have loved it!   

1. Nicholas Jones, "Text and Context: Two Languages in George Herbert's Poetry, Studies in Philology, Vol. 79.2, 1982, p.166.
2. ^{George Herbert. The Complete Poetry. John Drury, Penguin Classics. 2015. page 393.}
3. The photo above is the architect's own drawing of the church as it was conceived and subsequently built. His name was Hippolyte Blanc. 
4. Chana Bloch, George Herbert and the Spelling of the Word. University of California Press, 1985. p.245. 

The first words Jesus spoke to his disciples after the resurrection were “Peace be with you.” He spoke them to a group of folk hiding behind locked doors. They were struggling to make sense of their grief, and cope with bewilderment and anxiety about what happens now.

“Peace be with you.” They were the right words to hear when the heart is a mess and the mind can’t function clearly. We’ve all been there; feeling shut in, wondering how to move forward, and losing confidence in ourselves.

In John’s Gospel tells us the disciples were together, “and the doors were locked, but Jesus came and stood amongst them.” Grief does that – closes doors, puts us on the defensive against further hurt, and often drains our confidence in life.

“The doors were locked but Jesus came to them.” That’s a description of what God is like, the one who can’t be shut out even when we are shut in. “Peace be with you.” These are words worth considering, at those times when life comes apart in our hands. And just to be clear, these are words of benediction; Jesus conveys the blessing he speaks.

“Peace be with you”, is the prayer of the risen Jesus who has come through death to new life. He now comes looking for those hiding behind closed doors, alone and struggling with the messiness of their lives.

That can be any of us. Peace is a rich word filled with such meanings as trust, purpose, healing of heart, confidence in life, a sense of being held by a strength more than our own. This coming week, hear these words: “Peace be with you.”

……………………

This piece was first published in the Aberdeen Press and Journal, as The Saturday Sermon, on April 20th 2024. I've done this every 6 weeks or so since 1992! It is an exercise, or at least an attempt, at what John Calvin called 'lucid brevity'. In other words, the word limit is 275 words in which to say something that is meaningful, helpful and worth a readers time to read.

There's an important discipline in word limits. In the 1980's, when technology was much more basic, I was minister in a church in Paisley which had a telephone ministry. The machine recorded exactly two minutes which included time for it to kick in and sign off, to introduce myself, and then say something meaningful in 1 minute and 40 seconds. There was no edit facility, the first take was what callers heard when they dialled the number. 

All kinds of people used this ministry. We often had letters and cards of appreciation from folk struggling at home, calling from hospital, or who regularly listened for encouragement. The two minute sermon was renewed several times a week, so ideas and ways of saying them briefly and effectively slowly developed an instinct for what was essential to include and what was waffle!

Who knows the impact of words, spoken or written. With the Saturday Sermon there is a place where what is written can make a difference to how people think of themselves, see the world, and think about the life they are living. It's a privileged place in which to share with fellow travellers whatever wisdom and humane experience God has given. Not many newspapers have such a long tradition of including spiritual encouragement for their readers. 

Bookplate designed for me by Ian Smith, in 1976, when leaving College. Ian has illustrated various books over the years, and the simple lines convey depth, humour and the smiling compassion of the man himself. 

Monday

John 21.2-3 “Peter, Thomas, Nathanael, the sons of Zebedee, and two other disciples were together. “I’m going out to fish,” Peter told them, and they said, “We’ll go with you.” So they went out and got into the boat, but that night they caught nothing!”

Peter knew about fishing. In a world that had become unfamiliar and where he felt powerless, he went back to what he knew and could control. Distraction, doing the routine things you know best, being in supportive company. But even this seemed to be gone. “That night they caught nothing.” We know this story well – this is the opening scene of one of the great stories of friendship, forgiveness, love and a new beginning. What a friend we have in Jesus! Peter was about to discover this.

Tuesday

John 21.4-6 “Early in the morning, Jesus stood on the shore, but the disciples did not realize that it was Jesus. He called out to them, “Friends, haven’t you any fish?” “No,” they answered. He said, “Throw your net on the right side of the boat and you will find some.” When they did, they were unable to haul the net in because of the large number of fish.

This isn’t the carpenter teaching fishermen. This is a sign that the stranger on the shore is no stranger! Water into wine, food for 5,000, walking on storm-lashed seas – and now more fish than they can catch! It can only be Jesus, in whose presence miracles happen, doors and hearts open, and life begins again. Try listening to Acker Bilk playing ‘Stranger on the Shore’ while reading John 21.1-14! It’s a brilliant combination of eye-opening truth and gentle summons to friendship with Jesus.

Wednesday

John 21.7-9 “Then the disciple whom Jesus loved said to Peter, “It is the Lord!” As soon as Simon Peter heard him say, “It is the Lord,” he wrapped his outer garment around him (for he had taken it off) and jumped into the water… When they landed, they saw a fire of burning coals there with fish on it, and some bread.”

Two details. Peter clothed himself and then jumped into the water. He wasn’t going to meet the Lord stripped for work – and he was leaving his boat behind again!  The other detail to note is the charcoal fire. The other time Peter stood near a charcoal fire for comfort he denied he ever knew Jesus. (John 18.18) Now he was going to meet the one he disowned around another fire. In the place of his biggest failure he would be forgiven – but only after facing the one question that matters for all who follow Jesus, fail, and want to begin again.

Thursday

John 21.10-11 Jesus said to them, “Bring some of the fish you have just caught.” Peter climbed aboard and dragged the net ashore. It was full of large fish, 153, but even with so many the net was not torn. Jesus said, “Come and have breakfast.”

Why 153? Ancient writers thought there were 153 species of fish, so this might be John’s way of saying that those who are “fishers of men” will gather disciples from all nations. Or maybe 153 was simply the total caught! It’s the invitation that matters in this story. Hungry people are invited to eat in Jesus’ company. But an invitation to share food is also an offer of hospitality and friendship, to people who weren’t sure of their welcome. But the net of Jesus love is tear-proof, and draws them in!

Friday

John 21.12-13 Jesus said to them, “Come and have breakfast.” None of the disciples dared ask him, “Who are you?” They knew it was the Lord. Jesus came, took the bread and gave it to them, and did the same with the fish.

You can just see them, embarrassed, eyes down, everyone trying hard not to be the first to speak. All through the story Jesus makes things happen, does what needs doing. He is the cook, the host and the server. Around a charcoal fire, in the early morning, after a night of failure, they are served with food by the one who said, “I will not leave you desolate, I will come to you.” What a friend we have in Jesus!

Saturday

John 21.15 When they had finished eating, Jesus said to Simon Peter, “Simon son of John, do you love me more than these?” “Yes, Lord,” he said, “you know that I love you.” Jesus said, “Feed my lambs.”

You know the story. Three times the same question, “Peter, do you love me?” Three times Peter denied Jesus, three times he gets the chance to repent of those fear filled disclaimers. Each time Peter insists on the truth of his “Yes”. Until he says what we all say, what we all know, “Lord, you know all things, you know that I love you.”

Sunday

1 John 3.20 And this is how we set our hearts at rest in his presence whenever our hearts condemn us. For God is greater than our hearts, and he knows everything.

Peter discovers failure is not final. The key question always is our answer to Jesus’ question: “Do you love me? More than these? Really?” Faith is about trust, but it is also about love. Jesus calls us to love and trust him, to know the love of God revealed to us at the deepest places of our need. For God is greater than our hearts.