The Cross in the Earliest Christian Hymns (part 3)

There are three New Testament passages that are thought to be early hymns in honor of Jesus: Philippians 2:6-11, Colossians 1:15-20, and John 1:1-18. In their imagery, depth, and vision of Jesus they are unmatched. In the Philippian hymn and Colossian hymn the cross is prominent, occurring at the center of the hymn in Philippians and at the climactic end of the second stanza in Colossians. Given the importance of the cross for the early Christians, this is not surprising. What is surprising is that when we read John 1:1-18 the cross is not mentioned at all. Why and what does this tell us about the significance of the cross for the believers in John’s community?

First of all, there are probably good reasons that the cross is not mentioned in the John 1:1-18. It was not that the cross was not important to John. These verses function as a prologue to the whole of John’s Gospel. As such, they set out the major themes that will follow and serve to invite the reader to read the rest of the Gospel with the perspective that the prologue outlines. It is not necessary that a prologue should summarize the details of the following narrative. Further, the cross figures prominently in John’s Gospel as a whole. The cross is not specifically mentioned in the prologue since the reader would encounter it soon enough.

Second, in John’s Gospel it is important to note that the cross is not a shameful defeat for Jesus but represents instead the moment of the glorification of Jesus. Immediately after Judas left to betray him, leading to his crucifixion, Jesus said:

"Now is the Son of Man glorified, and God is glorified in him.” (Jn 13:31)

Here he was echoing the language of Isaiah: “You are my servant, Israel, in whom I will be glorified” (Is 49:3). The whole sequence of events leading up to the cross, beginning with the betrayal by Judas, was the way in which God’s glory was revealed. I sometimes have the tendency to think that God’s glory is revealed in the resurrection of Jesus—and it certainly is. But for John, the entire passion of Jesus was the revelation of God’s glory—not only the resurrection.

Third, though the cross is not mentioned in the prologue, the larger theme of the rejection of Jesus by the world certainly is. The prologue sets up a clear contrast between those who did not receive him and those who did. One stanza reads:

He was in the world,
and the world was made through him,
yet the world did not know him.
He came to his own,
and his own people did not receive him.
But to all who did receive him,
who believed in his name,
he gave the right to become children of God. (Jn 1:10-12)

So John talks not specifically about the cross here, but about the idea that there are those who rejected Jesus. This larger theme of the rejection of Jesus includes the rejection of Jesus by the Jewish leaders and by Pilate, the Roman ruler who had him crucified. Another stanza talks about the darkness trying to extinguish the light of Jesus:

The light shines in the darkness, and the darkness has not overcome it. (Jn 1:5)

This is poetic and metaphorical, but the scope of this image is broad enough to include the notion that the cross, the attempt at snuffing out of the life of Jesus by the forces of darkness, was unable to quench the divine light. A third stanza may also refer to the crucifixion since, as we have seen, for John the cross is the “glorification” of Jesus:

And the Word became flesh and dwelt among us, and we have seen his glory (Jn 1:14)

The “Word” in John’s poetic prologue, is Jesus. What was this glory that John and his companions saw? For John, the glory of Jesus is not just the miracles, or the teaching, or the resurrection. The glory of Jesus mentioned here includes the cross.

So the prologue invites the reader of John’s Gospel to read the story that follows and to look for the glory of Jesus in each aspect of his life, and especially in the cross. In addition, when one reads about the rejection of Jesus, including the rejection of Jesus by Pilate, the Roman ruler, the reader knows that this is part of the divine pattern. The reader can find his or herself in the story as well, whether as one who rejects Jesus, or one who receives him and sees in the cross a revelation of the glory of God.

As hymns, these three poetic passages in John, Philippians, and Colossians give us a glimpse into some of the ways that the death of Jesus was remembered among the earliest Christians. His death on the cross was a source of divine reversals in Philippians, a source of reconciliation in Colossians, and a revelation of the glory of God in John. And there is much more that these passages have to teach us. In these hymnic passages we gain a glimpse of the mystery of the cross, a mystery that will always exceed our capacity to grasp its ultimate meaning, but a mystery for which we can humbly give thanks to God.

The Cross in the Earliest Christian Hymns (part 2)

Note: This is a follow-up to last week's entry on the cross in the hymn in Philippians 2.

As we progress in this Holy Week to remember the crucifixion of Jesus on Good Friday, another early Christian hymn tells us a little more about what the cross meant to the early Christian worshipers. One of the earliest hymns preserved in the New Testament is found in Colossians 1:15-20. It is probably not quite as early as the Philippian hymn and has a very different feel and style than that hymn. The Colossian hymn was written in a Greek rhetorical style while the Philippian hymn reflects more of a Jewish psalm style. And rather than a chronological narrative with a reversal at the focal point of the cross, the Colossian hymn describes Christ over two stanzas using honorific titles and descriptors:

Stanza 1

15 He is the image of the invisible God, the firstborn of all creation;

16 for in him all things in heaven and on earth were created, things visible and invisible,

whether thrones or dominions or rulers or powers—

all things have been created through him and for him.

17 He himself is before all things, and in him all things hold together.

18 He is the head of the body, the church.

Stanza 2

He is the beginning, the firstborn from the dead,

so that he might come to have first place in everything.

19 For in him all the fullness of God was pleased to dwell,

20 and through him God was pleased to reconcile to himself all things,

whether on earth or in heaven, by making peace

through the blood of his cross.

As is fairly clear, the first stanza describes the supremacy of Christ in the realm of creation, while the second describes the supremacy of Christ in redemption. And it is in the work of redemption that the cross is mentioned, at the end of the second stanza. It is “through the blood of his cross” the following two things came about:

• The reconciling of all things to God, and,
• The making of peace.

There is a lot that could be said about those two accomplishments. One thing that is often overlooked is that these two accomplishments—reconciliation and peace making—were two primary claims made about the Roman emperor in the first century. If you recall your world history course, the Pax Romana (the Roman peace) was the term given to the peace that Rome brought about in the Mediterranean world. This was after an extended period of war and strife. Caesar Augustus claimed to have brought peace to the empire and reconciliation between warring factions. Of course, this was a peace brought about through military might and enforced through the subjugation of peoples and the execution of enemies. But it was “peace” nonetheless and something that the emperor claimed as his special accomplishment as a divinely appointed ruler of the world.

And here in this early Christian hymn, these same accomplishments of reconciliation and peace-making are attributed to Jesus. But for him it is not through military might but, as in Philippians, by means of the cross, the brutal symbol of Roman power.

The hymn does not explain how the blood of his cross makes peace. But the basic idea is that because of the cross, the parties that were at odds can be reconciled.

Stepping back to compare Philippians 2 and Colossians 1, it is clear that both hymns mention the cross. And in both cases a fuller appreciation of the Roman historical and cultural context enables us to grasp the significance of the cross a little more fully.

The Philippian hymn mentioned the cross as the turning point- the low point of Christ’s humiliation and the reason for the exaltation. But in the Philippian hymn there is a surprising absence: there is no mention of benefits accruing to humanity from the cross; no mention of salvation, forgiveness of sins, or redemption.

The Colossian hymn is different in this way. The cross is explicitly identified as the means through which God brings about peace and the reconciliation of all things. Paul applies this to the Colossians in vv. 21-22 and tells them “And you who were once estranged and hostile in mind, doing evil deeds, he has now reconciled in his fleshly body through death.”  Somehow, the cross is the means of reconciliation with God. And it is also another way that the supremacy of Christ is demonstrated. Because he was crucified and put to death, he can now be called not only the “firstborn over all creation” (stanza 1) but also the “firstborn from among the dead” (stanza 2). As the hymn says “so that in all things he might have the supremacy.”

If the Philippian hymn reminds us of the humility of Christ and of divine reversal, the Colossian hymn reminds us of the supremacy of Christ in creation and redemption. The cross is thus, again, not a triumph for the Romans but another indicator of the superiority of Jesus, the means by which he turns his enemies into his friends.

Given the importance of the cross in these two early Christian hymns, one might ask what role the cross plays in the other great early Christian hymn found in the New Testament: the hymnic prologue which opens up John’s Gospel. The answer is surprising.

The Cross in the Earliest Christian Hymns

The singing of psalms and hymns is a a practice which goes back to the very earliest Christian communities. Growing out of the model of Jewish worship and influenced as well by the practices of hymn-writing in the Greco-Roman world, Christians in the first century wrote hymns in honor of Jesus and recited them in their worship gatherings. As we approach Holy Week and consider the passion and crucifixion of Jesus, I wondered what the earliest hymns had to say about the cross of Christ. Did they mention it and, if so, in what way?

Source: MercyFoundation.com.au

Though it is not possible to reconstruct one standard set of specific words and rituals of early Christian worship for the first and second centuries, the New Testament does provide us some very interesting material to work with. The earliest texts that can be called “hymns” are found embedded in the New Testament: Phil 2:6-11, Col 1:15-20, and John 1:1-17. Each of these passages reflect the features of ancient hymnody. Even though we don’t know exactly how they were used in worship, they certainly give us a glimpse into what praise of Jesus included. And they each refer to the crucifixion either directly or indirectly as we will see.

 

Reading Phil 2:6-11 with an eye for the crucifixion it is clear that the cross is mentioned at a pivotal place in the hymn: the precise center. In this way the cross marks not only the center of the hymn but also the turning point. Prior to the mention of the cross, the hymn describes the downward trajectory of the subject, Jesus. After the mention of the cross, the hymn describes an incredible upward trajectory of exaltation.

Who, existing in the form of God,

did not consider equality with God a thing to be seized,

but emptied himself, taking the form of a slave,

being born in human likeness.

And being found in appearance as a human, he humbled himself,

becoming obedient unto death—

even death on a cross.

Therefore God highly exalted him,

and gave him the name that is above every name,

that at the name of Jesus every knee should bow

in heaven and on earth and under the earth,

And every tongue confess

that Jesus Christ is Lord

to the glory of God the Father. (Phil 2:6–11)

What is remarkable in the first century context was that a hymn of praise would celebrate something so horrible and shameful as the crucifixion. By including this in the hymn, the hymn-writer is making a claim about Jesus which goes entirely against the then-current cultural values. Rather than celebrating Jesus’s power or authority or leadership or eloquence, and brushing over any cause for embarrassment, the hymn actually highlights his humility, obedience, and self-sacrifice to the point of death. And in this way, the death of Jesus is remembered as a definition characteristic of Jesus’s life of obedience to God. It is also then offered as a model for believers.

One additional factor stands out. In a context in which Rome was the dominant political force in the world and in which that force was exercised by threat of death to those who opposed its rule, the cross was a symbol of Rome’s domination. In that very same context, it is remarkable that a Christian hymn writer would use that same symbol to demonstrate the supremacy of Christ. New Testament scholar Stephen Fowl explains it this way: “If Christ’s life was freely offered up to God in obedience, then although Rome can take the life, Rome cannot make Christ its victim. Ironically, they become unwitting agents in God’s economy of salvation” (Philippians [2005], 99).

 

And in this light we can really appreciate the way in which the cross represents a reversal: a reversal of values (the values of humility and obedience are exalted over self-seeking), a reversal of power (the seemingly unstoppable Roman empire exercising its brutal force is unknowingly furthering God’s plan), and a reversal that reveals the man Jesus as somehow the divine lord, receiving the homage of all creatures.

 

With the cross in the Philippian hymn as a starting point, it will be interesting to see what the emphasis is in the Colossian hymn and in John’s hymnic prologue. Comparing the three may give us some deep insights into the importance of the cross to the earliest Christians, those for whom the crucifixion was an event in the recent past. I'll turn to the Colossian hymn in my next post.

A Prayer of St. Patrick

Source: FaithND.edu

On St. Patrick’s Day I wanted to share an ancient Celtic prayer that is attributed to St. Patrick by tradition. Its author is unknown, but it is thought to originate from around the time of St. Patrick. The whole text of the prayer can be found here.

Sometimes called the "breastplate" of St. Patrick, this is a really fascinating prayer, focusing as it does on the power of God for the protection of the one praying. One excerpt that struck me in particular is this section that I had heard elsewhere about the presence of Christ with the one praying:

Christ with me, Christ before me, Christ behind me,
Christ in me, Christ beneath me, Christ above me,
Christ on my right, Christ on my left
Christ where I lie, Christ where I sit, Christ where I arise
Christ in the heart of every man who thinks of me,
Christ in the mouth of every man who speaks of me,
Christ in every eye that sees me,
Christ in every ear that hears me.

The rhetorical force of this kind of language is very impressive. The series of prepositions “with,” “before,” “behind,” “in,” “beneath,” “above,” and “on” creates an impression of the all-encompassing presence of Christ. In this regard it echoes one of the early christological hymns found in the New Testament in Colossians 1:15-20. Verses 16-17 of that passage read:

For in him all things in heaven and on earth were created…
all things have been created through him and for him.
He himself is before all things, and in him all things hold together. (NRSV)

There we see the focus on “all things” which created “in him,” “through him,” and “for him.” Verses 19-20a read:

For in him all the fullness of God was pleased to dwell,
and through him God was pleased to reconcile to himself all things. (NRSV)

This emphasis on totality is continued in these verses with “all the fullness” dwelling “in him” and “all things” being reconciled “through him.” The rhetorical force of a series of prepositions, taken as a whole, communicate something in addition to what each individual phrase suggests. It creates an impression of the all-encompassing presence of God through Christ both in God's work of creation and in God's work of redemption.

Interestingly, just as the prayer of St. Patrick shows the influence of the Colossian hymn, in a similar way the Colossian hymn shows the influence of the Greco-Roman age in which it was composed. Popular Greek philosophers around the first century known as Middle Platonists made much of the significance of prepositions. Prepositions like those used in the Colossian hymn were central to their philosophical debates about divine agency in the creating and sustaining of the world, and they debated the significance of actions done “by” someone as opposed to “through” someone or “in” someone. The Jewish writer Philo of Alexandria used these prepositions to discuss the work of the Logos (divine reason) as an agent of God in ways that echoed the Greek philosophical debates.These observations do not mean to suggest that the writer of the Colossian hymn was a Middle Platonic philosopher or that the hymnist simply copied Greek ideas. However, it does seem clear that the prepositions used about Christ in that hymn had cultural currency, and the author used them to invoke a quasi-philosophical feel in the hymn. Christ is clearly portrayed as the unique and supreme agent of God in both the creation of all things and the redemption of all things. Interestingly, this same idea is picked up in the hymn that opens John's Gospel where Jesus is explicitly identified as the Logos through whom God created the world.

The prayer of St. Patrick and the Colossian hymn both demonstrate the fascinating ways in which the language of prayer and praise draws on earlier tradition to meet the need of the present day. May it be that our own prayer and praise draws on these rich traditions, connecting them deeply and meaningfully with the needs of our own time. 

At the present moment in our culture, the excerpt above from the prayer of St. Patrick feels very timely. Certainly the recognition of the presence of Christ in all whom we encounter is a reminder to me to strive to honor the dignity of each person created in the image of God, regardless of what differences may otherwise separate us. May we all see Christ in every eye that sees us.

Race and Class in an Immortal Life

Four of my colleagues at Carlow University recently participated in a panel discussion on the subject of race and class in our common reader book, The Immortal Life of Henrietta Lacks: Joel Woller, assistant professor of history, Dr. Linda Schifino, associate professor of communication, Dr. Judith Touré, professor of education, and Jessica Ruffin, Director of the Social Justice Institutes at Carlow University. Each approached the topic of race and class from a perspective informed by their discipline with the result that this was a wide-ranging look at these timely issues.

As a historian, Professor Woller, focused on three things. First, the author’s research and writing process and the excitement and pain of doing historical research. Second, the historical context of the book and, in particular, its settings in both the era of Jim Crow (with whites-only hospitals) and in the post-Jim Crow era—an era in which issues of race and class continue to have economic impact with disproportionate effects on African American families.

A professor of communication, Dr. Linda Schifino focused on issues of culture and how her culture affected Henrietta’s mindset toward her healthcare and this disease, particularly a culturally ingrained distrust of doctors. Linda also raised the notion of Intersectionality: Henrietta was not just black, also a woman, poor, and uneducated. All these identities “walked into the hospital with her,” with the net result that walking into the hospital was like walking into a foreign country. Trust and distrust was a central issue for Henrietta and for women like her.

Dr. Judith Touré approached this issue from a theoretical framework which has been part of her own research on what is called the white racial frame, drawing on critical race theory. One of the most pressing points she raised is the notion that Americans today are not living in a post-racial period; rather, racism (understood as prejudice plus power) is deeply rooted in the United States. One tool for countering racism is the idea of “counter-storytelling” a method that allows for counternarratives, giving voice to those whose voices are otherwise marginalized, such as women like Henrietta. One thing that those of us in higher education can do, suggested Dr. Touré, is to find ways to help students, faculty, staff, and ourselves develop racial literacy.

Finally, Jessica Ruffin, director of the Social Justice Institutes, did an excellent job of pointing out examples from the book showing that racism is not limited to individual actions or attitudes, but is systemic in nature. Differentials access to goods, services, and opportunities of society by race is the norm, and structure, and sometimes even protected by law. She provided ample statistics suggesting that this continues to be an ongoing systemic issue in our society.

During a time of open discussions some suggestions for further action were offered. These included expanding and deepening this conversation at Carlow; educating ourselves and our families; helping to educate our own communities; learning how people of other cultures want to be engaged, as a way of fostering trust; confronting the systems that propagate injustice; speaking up if you encounter something on campus- send an email, talk to someone, confront it. Jessica Ruffin gave a great summary exhortation to both students and Carlow faculty and staff:

“Remember your role in this; this is not someone else’s problem to deal with.”

A few days after the panel, I read the account in the Gospel of John where Jesus encounters the Samaritan woman at the well. In this account in John 4 many have seen an illustration of crossing social boundaries and engaging with “the other” as a person who deserves respect and dignity. What that looks like today in our culture may be very different from the time and culture of Jesus, but in any event it is clear that the writers of the gospels went out of their way to emphasize the inclusive nature of the good news and the love of Jesus as extending to all people regardless of race and class. In fact, the biblical and prophetic tradition suggests a concern and even a preference for those on the margins, whether that be racially, economically, or culturally. At the same time, it needs to be noted that the Bible has been used, at times, to propagate injustice and inequality. One need only look at the history of slavery in the United States for Christians who used scripture with great confidence to support the practice of slavery. On the other hand, it was also Christians who read the same Bible who worked tirelessly to abolish slavery as they sought to embody the teaching and love of Jesus toward their fellow human beings. Such an observation is a reminder that we need to be careful in what we “read into” scripture and make efforts to ensure that what we find in the Bible is not just a reflection of our own prejudices.

Taking a step back, my sense is that these panel members’ engagement with race and class in The Immortal Life of Henrietta Lacks embodies this same gospel openness to “the other.” The panel approach also demonstrates in action the value of the liberal arts: looking at complex issues from a variety of perspectives using knowledge from across the disciplines; questioning assumptions; and finding ways to imagine a better world and to help bring it about for the good of all. This summary only partially captures the breadth and depth of the discussion and the panelist’s comments. Ultimately what is important that we continue this conversation and each engage with issues of race and class in our own way recognizing that this is not someone else's problem.