2010/Jun/22 - Hadamut
I plan on starting a new journalling-series on the Psalms, one a day, but before heading back to the poetic and musical praise and prayers of 1410 BC, I am going to hop only as far back as 1096 AD, with a pit-stop in 1917 AD. Today, I will be looking at the final verse of the hymn The Love Of God, which we sang at Church on Sunday. The song as we know it was written in 1917 in the USA by Frederick M. Lehman, but is based on an Aramaic poem called Hadamut written in 1096 in Worms, Germany by a Rabbi named Mayer. Here is the text, 1917 version:
Could we with ink the ocean fill,
And were the sky of parchment made,
Were every stalk on Earth a quill,
And every man a scribe by trade
To write the love
Of God above
Would drain the ocean dry.
Nor could the scroll
Contain the whole,
Though stretched from sky to sky.
What a beautiful piece of poetry! Remarkably, it took an interesting journey to end up in our hymnal. Lehman first saw the verse, having written the first two stanzas previously, penciled on the walls of a cell in an insane asylum. The first two verses, incidentally, were written by Lehman while he was working at a forced labour camp.
Defining how big God's love is goes beyond having to measure in kilograms instead of pounds, or miles instead of kilometres. Ephesians 4:6b tells us that God is "above all, and through all, and in you all" and the phrase "God is love" pops up twice in I John. An infinite and eternal God, composed of love. It is no wonder that a skyload of parchment and an ocean of ink would be inadequate. In some ways, though, the sky is a parchment, and the ocean is an inkpot. The key difference, however, is that God is the creative force, rather than billions of Human scribes. His beauty is evident all around us, and we see fragments of His love all over the place. On Sunday after Church I took a whole bunch of photographs on my way home. I ended up with around seventy pictures, almost all of flowers. Each bloom is different, each has a different place in the world, but each one is beautiful. Some have ragged leaves, either from the conditions of the plant's life, or the evolutionary history of the species, while others have a more pristine look. Some were growing on trellises (Fun fact! The word rule comes from the Latin word for trellis, regula, which refers to 'a straight stick which guides growth'), while others grew up from the ground, and still others lay upon the ground. In the few blocks between the Church and the Aerie, there was so much variety it was gorgeous. I take that as a little miracle, a bit of engineering on a cosmic scale which all led up to a few streets brimming with gardens in bloom. I have no trouble at all agreeing with Rabbi Mayer. That Lehman thought about how great God is during his time in a labour camp is remarkable, too, but I am glad he did. It is another reminder that not only is God's love laudable, it is active. God will seek us out and love us no matter what our circumstances are, or if we feel ashamed to stand before Him, or if we hide, or even if we refuse to pay attention to Him. In a flashback to my days of choir under the excellent direction of Elisabeth M., I will work backwards and close with the first line of the hymn: The love of God is greater far than tongue or pen can ever tell. It goes beyond the highest star, and reaches to the lowest hell. There is just no way around it. God loves us, quite literally to His death.
Note:
Here is a link to a Youtube clip of the song. It switches the second and third verses, and adds a few extra Hallelujahs before the chorus, but everyone sings each song a bit differently. Personally, I would do it a little bit faster. Perhaps if I get my act together and cut an album one day (That will have to wait until I get a piano, a microphone, and develop my guitar and violin skills further), I might include my own rendition.
Could we with ink the ocean fill,
And were the sky of parchment made,
Were every stalk on Earth a quill,
And every man a scribe by trade
To write the love
Of God above
Would drain the ocean dry.
Nor could the scroll
Contain the whole,
Though stretched from sky to sky.
What a beautiful piece of poetry! Remarkably, it took an interesting journey to end up in our hymnal. Lehman first saw the verse, having written the first two stanzas previously, penciled on the walls of a cell in an insane asylum. The first two verses, incidentally, were written by Lehman while he was working at a forced labour camp.
Defining how big God's love is goes beyond having to measure in kilograms instead of pounds, or miles instead of kilometres. Ephesians 4:6b tells us that God is "above all, and through all, and in you all" and the phrase "God is love" pops up twice in I John. An infinite and eternal God, composed of love. It is no wonder that a skyload of parchment and an ocean of ink would be inadequate. In some ways, though, the sky is a parchment, and the ocean is an inkpot. The key difference, however, is that God is the creative force, rather than billions of Human scribes. His beauty is evident all around us, and we see fragments of His love all over the place. On Sunday after Church I took a whole bunch of photographs on my way home. I ended up with around seventy pictures, almost all of flowers. Each bloom is different, each has a different place in the world, but each one is beautiful. Some have ragged leaves, either from the conditions of the plant's life, or the evolutionary history of the species, while others have a more pristine look. Some were growing on trellises (Fun fact! The word rule comes from the Latin word for trellis, regula, which refers to 'a straight stick which guides growth'), while others grew up from the ground, and still others lay upon the ground. In the few blocks between the Church and the Aerie, there was so much variety it was gorgeous. I take that as a little miracle, a bit of engineering on a cosmic scale which all led up to a few streets brimming with gardens in bloom. I have no trouble at all agreeing with Rabbi Mayer. That Lehman thought about how great God is during his time in a labour camp is remarkable, too, but I am glad he did. It is another reminder that not only is God's love laudable, it is active. God will seek us out and love us no matter what our circumstances are, or if we feel ashamed to stand before Him, or if we hide, or even if we refuse to pay attention to Him. In a flashback to my days of choir under the excellent direction of Elisabeth M., I will work backwards and close with the first line of the hymn: The love of God is greater far than tongue or pen can ever tell. It goes beyond the highest star, and reaches to the lowest hell. There is just no way around it. God loves us, quite literally to His death.
Note:
Here is a link to a Youtube clip of the song. It switches the second and third verses, and adds a few extra Hallelujahs before the chorus, but everyone sings each song a bit differently. Personally, I would do it a little bit faster. Perhaps if I get my act together and cut an album one day (That will have to wait until I get a piano, a microphone, and develop my guitar and violin skills further), I might include my own rendition.