High or Low Jesus?

January 24, 2012

Dear St. Paul’s Family,

It may come as a surprise to you to hear that I was in my mid-twenties before I ever sang the song “In the Garden.” The hymn that has become a staple in almost every congregation’s repertoire, and a near-unanimous request from hospital patients that I visit, was virtually unknown to me until 1997, when I was twenty-four years old. This is even more improbable considering my thirteen years of Christian school, which included weekly chapel services, and my active participation in a United Methodist Church since my sophomore year in high school.

As a youth, I can’t ever remember singing that hymn during worship. The church choir, often responsible for selecting the hymns, eschewed lyrics that “humanized” Jesus too much. Instead, we sang hymns that elevated Jesus to lofty regard: “How Great Thou Art,” “All Hail the Power of Jesus’ Name,” and “Rejoice! The Lord is King!” were standard staples. But that also meant we never sang songs like “Victory in Jesus,” “Jesus is All the World to Me,” and, of course, “In the Garden.” The idea of singing a song that emphasizes that Jesus walks with me, talks with me, and tells me I am his own would rarely dotted his radar.

It would be unfair to criticize that music director for his hymn decisions. He was expressing a preference, not unlike that shared by many in the churches history who have had to wrestle with one of the foundational questions of the Christian faith: to what degree was Jesus both human and divine? Yes, our doctrine claims that his divinity and humanity were of equal status, two natures in one person. But many Christians have swayed their emphasis toward one at the expense of the other. There are those with a "high" Christology, like my choir director, who see Jesus as the sovereign Lord and ruler of creation. This was a position first offered by the Monophysites (“one nature”) in the fifth century, who claimed that Christ had only one nature, which was mostly essentially divine. Many classical paintings throughout the ages depict this Jesus as the pantokrator, or cosmic Lord of the universe.

At the other extreme, there are those who have preferred the humanity of Jesus, the one who cried at the death of Lazarus, suffered real pain at the hands of his Roman captors, and who wrestled with real temptations in the wilderness. This position was first offered by the church theologian Arius and his followers in Antioch.

Eventually, the Christian church deemed both monophysitism and Arianism as heretical. Jesus is not mostly divine, who then assumed some human characteristics. Nor is Jesus less than God because he was God’s Son. Instead, the Council of Chalcedon in 451 AD ruled that Jesus was “perfect in Godhead and also perfect in manhood; truly God and truly man, of a reasonable soul and body; consubstantial with the Father according to the Godhead, and consubstantial with us according to the Manhood.”

But despite this definitive statement 2,000 years ago, there still exists a range of perceptions about the nature of Jesus Christ, with nearly as many preferences as there are people. Though we claim the same creeds, we still have our own privately held convictions about who Jesus Christ is to each of us. Some of us like to think of Jesus as the rugged, square-jawed man with beautiful eyes and a winsome smile. Still others like to think of Jesus as sitting sky high on a throne, overlooking creation as if from a luxury box suite. Some of us like to call him "Master," while others call him "Friend." And the truth is, our hymnal caters to each of those preferences, from the lofty words of "Fairest Lord Jesus" ("Ruler of all nations") to the intimate scenes of "In the Garden" ("who walks with me and talks with me and tells me I am His own.")

Which brings me back to the first time I ever sang that song.

I am writing this message from the Life Enrichment Center in Leesburg, Florida, where fifteen years ago this week, I interviewed to become a pastor in the United Methodist Church. I can remember arriving in the afternoon, barely holding down my lunch, the nerves swirling in my gut in preparation for a long afternoon of examination. I would soon be sitting before fifty members of the Florida Conference Board of Ordained Ministry, who would pepper me with questions about my theology, my preaching, and my personal life. I was a wreck.

Before the interviews began, the candidates gathered with members of the Board for an informal worship service. The worship leader invited us to turn in the Hymnal to page number 314. As he played the piano, the sweet melody of this unfamiliar hymn began to soothe my racing heart. Rather than sing along, I listened to those around me, hoping to pick up the melody. And I listened to the lyrics, about an early-morning encounter in a garden with Jesus, whose voice is sweet, and whose melody is serene: Then, we sang the chorus:

And he walks with me, and he talks with me,
And he tells me I am his own.
And the joy we share as we tarry there
None other has ever known.

At that moment, the image of Jesus that seized my soul was not a distant, imperial God on high, but a God who was even closer to me than my heart's restless fears. The assurance of God's presence, expressed poignantly and powerfully in that chorus, washed over me, prompting a catch in breath, and tears down my cheek.

A member of the Board sitting next to me, assigned to be my "Board Buddy" throughout the afternoon, caught me crying. After the song, he leaned over and whispered to me. "That song kinda gets to you, doesn't it?"

"Yeah," I whispered back.

"Me, too," he said.

Today, and every day this week, I'll be back in that very same room, with another batch of candidates anxiously awaiting their interviews. Except this time, I'll be one of the members of the Board: an examiner, not the examined. And this afternoon, I'll have another special privilege, as the one who will be leading everyone in worship. And, of course, I'll have us sing "In the Garden." Maybe there will be someone there who has never sung it before. Maybe someone else will need to hear about a God who is as close to us as our own breath. And maybe there will be someone who needs to be reminded that this almighty God, ruler of the universe, accompanies us along every journey of life, such that "the joy we share as we tarry there, none other has ever known."

Grace and Peace,

Magrey

The Rev. Magrey R. deVega
St. Paul's United Methodist Church
531 W. Main St.
Cherokee, IA 51012
Ph: 712-225-3955
Email: mdevega@sp-umc.org



WORSHIP THIS SUNDAY
Join us as we continue our sermon series on Ecclesiastes with a look at the value of community. It's a sermon titled "Big Brother: The Gift of Community," based on Ecclesiastes 4 and 5.

FIND US ON FACEBOOK
The church now has a Facebook page, which, for the time being, will serve as the church’s new website. You can access the site even if you are not signed up for Facebook by visiting www.facebook.com/cherokeespumc.

MAGREY IN FLORIDA THIS WEEK
I am in Leesburg, Florida, this week, interviewing candidates for ordination. You can reach me by e-mail, or contact the church office in the event of an emergency. I will return this Saturday evening and will be back in worship this Sunday.