Pope and Turk

Forgive the irreverent title, but I can't get a tune out of my head.

The older I get, (which isn't actually that antique, just yet) the more I delight in the hymns and songs I grew up with. I don't mean that I want to sing them in worship; it's just that I enjoy re-reading the theology of the hymnal. Some of the tunes are dire, and some of the words are a joke, at least, some of the metrical versions of the psalms ought to be buried forever. However, there are also words that are capable of speaking to me, and hopefully to others.

One such hymn was written by Russell Bowie in 1928, as a version of the 'Dies Irae' to be sung in Liverpool Cathedral. I remember it from the old Church of Scotland hymnal ("Church Hymnary. III Edition). The wonderful words speak about the coming of Christ in judgment, into our modern world. I suppose they came to mind because I've just taken a group of hardy souls in the church through a study of Revelation, for Lent. I'd never really taught on the central chapters before (shame on me). So, the theme of judgment was very fresh in my mind.

Before I share the words, just a brief comment on the title of today's musings. The tune, to which Bowie's words are usually set, is 'Wittenberg' adapted by Bach from the Christliche Lieder of 1524. In Klug's Gesangbuch of 1543 the hymn is headed, "A children's song, to be sung against the two arch-enemies of Christ and His holy Church, the Pope and the Turk." The tune came to be known as "Pope and Turk."

I hope we have moved beyond such nonsense. If these words are to be sung against anything, they should be sung against our continued hesitancy to embrace, unreservedly, the rule of Christ in our lives, to reject the works of evil, and to stand for the values of the Kingdom.

Enjoy the hymn as a fitting reflection upon Christ's passion, His resurrection in power, and the promise of His coming again.

Lord Christ, when first Thou cam'st to men,

Upon a cross they bound Thee,

And mocked Thy saving kingship then

By thorns with which they crowned Thee:

And still our wrongs may weave Thee now

New thorns to pierce that steady brow,

And robe of sorrow round Thee.

New advent of the love of Christ,

Shall we again refuse Thee,

Till in the night of hate and war

We perish as we lose Thee?

From old unfaith our souls release

To seek the kingdom of Thy peace,

By which alone we choose Thee.

O wounded hands of Jesus, build

In us Thy new creation;

Our pride is dust, our vaunt is stilled,

We wait Thy revelation:

O Love that triumphs over loss,

We bring our hearts before Thy cross,

To finish Thy salvation.

Walter Russell Bowie (1882-1969).