By Rev. Prof. Peter Thompson, Associate Professor of Theology
Christianity was born in song and has used congregational song (at least as much as preaching and teaching) to impart theology. When Ambrose struggled against the tidal wave of Arianism in the fourth century, it was not in erudite theological discourse that the battle was won, but in song. Ambrose set about composing hymns that were doctrinally orthodox but also musically attractive, and their impact was a major factor in the battle against Arianism.
The maxim Lex Orandi, Lex Credendi (the law of prayer is the law of belief) is a reminder of the importance of the words we use in worship — and in song. This principle has a venerable history which can be traced back at least to the early fifth century, to the writings of Prosper of Aquitaine. We are shaped (theologically) by the words we say and sing, and so there is a huge importance that these words are handled carefully, that they are orthodox and enriching.
It can, however, be a two edged sword. If used solely to excise inappropriate or ambiguous words and phrases from a hymnal, it can become the vehicle which allows words of little value or substance to earn or maintain a place, simply because they contain nothing objectionable. To put it bluntly, hymns which teach nothing cannot be heretical!
One of the most challenging — but equally important — areas for hymn writers is Soteriology, questions of salvation and the work of Jesus Christ. Nineteenth and early twentieth century theology used the term “theories of atonement,” a phrase which retains a certain currency today but which is falling out to favour across a whole spectrum of theological viewpoints.
In a short blog post such as this there isn’t scope to even scratch the surface of this wonderful topic, other than to note the most basic of headings. Writings about the meaning of the cross and resurrection of Jesus Christ mostly draw on four major strands, and each often incorporate elements from multiple strands in one account.
First is the Cross as Sacrifice, drawing on the Old Testament understanding of sin-offerings. There is a particular emphasis on this in the Epistle to the Hebrews, and it is taken up and developed by St Augustine in his City of God. This was developed in the typology of munus triplex Christi (the threefold office of Christ) in the sixteenth century, where there work of Christ was described as “prophet, priest and king.” The concept of sacrifice became central to reformed theology, but the Enlightenment transformed this into a metaphorical interpretation, as seen in the writings of John Locke and Thomas Chubb. The language of sacrifice was debased by its use in the was and post-war years of the twentieth century, but continues to be of huge importance in Roman Catholic Eucharistic theology.
Second is the Cross as Victory, a theme prominent in the New Testament and early Church. The phrase Christus Victor speaks of the victory of Christ over sin and death, over evil and the devil, through his death and resurrection. Within this, the image of his death as a ransom became of central importance to patristics writers such as Irenaeus. Jesus himself describes his life as a ‘ransom for many’ (Mark 10:45; see also 1 Timothy 2:6). To Origen the question became who was the ransom paid to? It could not have been to God, therefore it must have been to the Devil. Gregory the Great took this a step further, suggesting the image of Christ’s humanity as bait, and his divinity as a hook to trap the devil. It is this theme we see in the hymn by St Fulbert of Chartres, ‘Ye choirs of new Jerusalem’, with the Lion of Judah crushing the serpent and harrowing hell. This approach also fell out of favour in the Enlightenment, and only really re-emerged in Gustav Aulén’s Christus Victor in 1931.
Third is the Cross as forgiveness, which can be traced back to Anselm of Canterbury, writing in the eleventh-century. Dissatisfied with the idea of the “rights of the devil” implicit in his understanding of Christus Victor, Anselm turns instead to the total righteousness of God. In Cur Deus Homo he makes an argument which might be summarised that God created the world in a state of righteousness and perfection. Sin has destroyed mankind’s obedience which appears to have frustrated God’s plan, but since God cannot be frustrated there must be some means by which the situation can be redeemed, and so a satisfaction is required for sin. Humanity lacks the ability to achieve this, but a “God-man” has both the ability and the obligation to achieve this. Anselm’s understanding of satisfaction was taken up and developed in the thirteenth-century by Thomas Aquinas. By the sixteenth century three models were becoming used to understand the connection between forgiveness and the death of Christ. First is that Christ is the Representative of humanity, and we enter into a covenant relationship through faith, thus appropriating the benefits of Christ’s sacrifice. Second is Participation in the risen Christ, drawing on the writings of Paul about believers being “in Christ.” Third is Substitution, where Christ takes our place on the cross. Yet again, Enlightenment thinkers criticised each of these, beginning with the fundamental principle of original sin, and the concept of satisfaction, which undergirds them all.
Forth is the Cross as a Moral Example, a demonstration of the love of God for humanity, a theme stressed by Augustine of Hippo and Clement of Alexandria. This theme was taken up in the medieval era by Peter Abelard who understood the incarnation to be a public demonstration of the love of God which intends to elicit a response from humanity of love in return.
To return to the topic of hymnody, many hymns are grounded in the idea of substitutionary atonement, and not just those written at or since the turn of the last century. We need only think back to “O sacred head” by Arnuld of Leuven (d. 1250) and Paul Gerhardt (1607-1676); “Ah, holy Jesu, how hast thou offended” by Johnan Hermann (1585-1647) and Robert Bridges 1844-1930), “Man of Sorrows” by Philip Bliss (1838-1876) or “And can it be” by Charles Wesley (1707-1788).
This year will be the twentieth anniversary of the writing of “In Christ alone,” a hymn which strongly divides opinions. There has been more written about this hymn — or rather the single line: “the wrath of God was satisfied” — than any other hymn in recent years. A moment on Google will reveal reams of information, and here is not the place to regurgitate it all. The issue is that it expresses a belief in Penal Substitutionary Atonement, a particular expansion of the theory of Substitution, of Christ taking our place, in which he is penalised or punished in our place. To some this can be taken to an extreme by seeing the placating of an angry God, and therein lies the crux of their difficulty with the hymn. Not only is it a question of Soteriology, it becomes an issue of even more basic Theology, the doctrine of God. Lex orandi, lex credendi.
For anyone wanting to undertake some inter-disciplinary research spanning both Theology and Church Music, there is no shortage of work that could be undertaken in this area.