Introduction: Or, the Piece I Was Going to Write
We sang a lovely hymn in worship on Sunday: Lord, You Give the Great Commission. I noticed while we were singing that the tune was written in 1941. With that in mind, here is the piece I was planning to write:
Imagine what was going on in the world in 1941 when Cyril Thomas wrote this music. The world was at war. Unspeakable atrocities were being committed on multiple continents. Totalitarianism seemed ascendant on the world stage. And yet, Cyril put pen to paper and produced this beautiful tune. Even in times of uncertainty, God calls us to make beauty, and sing for joy. “In season, and out of season” we have a calling to fulfill as followers of Jesus. (2 Timothy 4:2)
The Story Behind the Hymn
But the truth behind this hymn is much more interesting than that. The tune, titled ABBOT’S LEIGH, was written by Thomas specifically to replace another piece. The story goes like this. John Newton’s hymn, Glorious Things of Thee Are Spoken, has been beloved for generations. (Perhaps not as much as his Amazing Grace, but what is?) It was sung to the tune of AUSTRIA (also known as AUSTRIA’S HYMN), composed by Franz Joseph Haydn.
The problem: this is the same tune to which the 20th century Austrian and German national anthems were sung. In 1941 England, it is not difficult to see why this might pose a problem. One anecdote illustrates this well. In 1936, the German ambassador to Britain, von Ribbentrop, was in Durham Cathedral while Glorious Things of Thee are Spoken was sung. Hearing the tune to his national anthem, von Ribbentrop gave the Nazi salute during the service, and a fight nearly ensued during worship.
As the war broke out and progressed, the BBC received complaints about hearing the tune AUSTRIA on the radio. Cyril Thomas was working for the religious content section of the BBC, and in May 1941 wrote the tune ABBOT’S LEIGH in response to those complaints, to replace AUSTRIA. That tune was later used for the hymn mentioned above, written in 1978, which we sang on Sunday.
See what I mean? This is a much more fascinating story than I imagined. And – unfortunately – more relevant.
From 1941 to 2022
Nationalism is ascendant in many places around the world, including the US. (I would distinguish between patriotism as a proper and chastened love of home and a nationalism that mythologizes one’s country and marginalizes all who question the myth.) Putin seems to be hoping that Russian nationalism will be stronger than Russian morality, and he is backed by a compromised church that seems rotten with that same infection. My teacher, Stanley Hauerwas, calls this sort of cross-and-flag Christianity Constantinianism, naming the ugly combination of state and church, ideology and theology. Even though this oversimplifies the history of the early church, it is a helpful descriptor.
In a Constantinian frame, it makes perfect sense to praise God and country with the same tune, to love both equally, and to see both as infallible. St. Augustine would warn us, however, of the danger of disordered love. To give to a nation or state which should only be directed to God is idolatry. God is sovereign, and to follow Jesus is to have no Lord above the Prince of Peace.
Coming from this same period of history, the Barmen Declaration sought to draw a line in the sand between the proper vocation of the state and that of the church. Heavily influenced by Swiss theologian Karl Barth, and drawing upon 1 Peter 2:17 (“Fear God. Honor the emperor.”), the Barmen Declaration put the issues in stark relief:
We reject the false doctrine that beyond its special commission the State should and could become the sole and total order of human life and so fulfill the vocation of the Church as well.
We reject the false doctrine that beyond its special commission the Church should and could take on the nature, tasks and dignity which belong to the State and thus become itself an organ of the State.
This was a call to separate what in Nazi Germany had become an unholy amalgamation: the German state and the German church. But this impulse is not unique to 1940’s Europe; indeed, it has a long history in societies where Christianity flourishes. We see it today, in places as seemingly different as the US and Russia.
Conclusion: Whose Tune Will We Sing?
For followers of Jesus, we can love our home, but we can never in good conscience say, “My country right or wrong.” We can desire the flourishing of our nation, but we ought not wish the diminishing of others. We can honor our leaders, but we must remember that only one King has been sinless (Hebrews 4:15), and only he is worthy of our worship and our deepest allegiance.
Psalm 137:4 records that the exiles in Babylon raised the agonizing question, “How can we sing the Lord’s songs in a foreign land?” Today, in many places, we face a different problem: when God’s tune and the state’s tune come into conflict, which will we choose?
Well said, Drew!