The Peculiar Grandeur of the Gospel
“From now on, therefore, we regard no one according to the flesh. Even though we once regarded Christ according to the flesh, we regard him thus no longer.”
The Rothschild Canticles is a remarkable book of high medieval devotions, produced around 1300 for a nun in Flanders. It features meditations and aphorisms on the paradise, Song of Songs, the Virgin Mary, and the Trinity, taken from a collection of Scriptural, devotional, and theological texts. The sequencing of the texts and images are representative of the journey ever deeper into the mystery of the Triune God who has revealed himself in Jesus Christ. This full page illustration (fol. 98r) is a unique image: the divinity of Christ — usually represented in a subdued fashion in the old illuminations and iconography — fully conceals his human face. Indeed, we might wonder if the figure depicted is Christ at all: might it be one of his saints, so united to him as to be taken up into the rich mystery of that glory? Abscondes eos in abdito faciei tuae, reads a verse on the following page, “You hide them (your saints) in the covert of your presence” (Ps 31:20) …
Whoever is wise will ponder these things, and shall understand the loving-kindness of the Lord.
— Psalm 107:43
Fourth Sunday after Pentecost
Texts for This Week
Prayer
Lord of all power and might, the author and giver of all good things: Graft in our hearts the love of your Name, increase in us true religion, nourish us with all goodness, and bring forth in us the fruit of good works; through Jesus Christ our Lord, who lives and reigns with you and the Holy Spirit, one God, for ever and ever.
Eternal Father, Strong to Save
As we encounter Jesus in our Gospel for this week taming the wind and walking upon the waves, scarcely could there be a more suitable musical accompaniment than that classic hymn of the Royal Navy, Eternal Father, Strong to Save. Indeed, when William Whiting penned these lyrics in 1860 as an invocation of the Triune God “for those in peril on the sea,” he specifically alludes to both this week’s reading from Job 38 (vv 8, 11) and the Gospel lesson at the end of Mark 4.
O Savior, whose almighty word
The winds and waves submissive heard,
Who walked upon the foaming deep,
And calm amid the rage did sleep…
The featured recording of this hymn was recorded in St. George’s Chapel at Windsor Castle during the funeral of Prince Philip earlier this year, honoring Philip’s service in the royal navy. In the context of the death and pain and isolation that this past year has wrought — poignantly visible in the small, distanced choir and the quire, sparely populated, when in normal times the chapel would be packed with mourners — the heartcry to God expressed in this hymn takes on a new meaning, and new poignancy. Being “on the sea” need not be limited to the boats out on the water (although it certainly includes that), but extends also metaphorically to those facing any kind of overwhelming grief, trouble, or distress. “Save me, O God, for the waters have risen up to my neck!” (Ps 69:1)
