Love That Will Not Let Me Gogh

Theories on the butchering of van Gogh's ear seem to abound, but the latest involves his despair over his brother Theo's impending marriage and (as anticipated by Vincent) subsequent distancing, emotionally and financially, from Vincent. Regardless of the truth of this theory--it seems to stretch the evidence a little in my highly experienced art historian-detective opinion--it reminded me of the story of one of my favorite hymns. I can't verify this either, but here it is anyway.
The hymn-writer himself, George Matheson, purportedly wrote,

"My hymn was composed in the manse of Innelan [Argyleshire, Scotland] on the evening of the 6th of June, 1882, when I was 40 years of age. I was alone in the manse at that time. It was the night of my sister's marriage, and the rest of the family were staying overnight in Glasgow. Something happened to me, which was known only to myself, and which caused me the most severe mental suffering. The hymn was the fruit of that suffering. It was the quickest bit of work I ever did in my life. I had the impression of having it dictated to me by some inward voice rather than working it out myself. I am quite sure that the whole work was completed in five minutes, and equally sure that it never received at my hands any retouching or correction. I have no natural gift of rhythm. All the other verses I have ever written are manufactured articles; this came like a dayspring from on high."

The first and only place I've ever heard it is on an Indelible Grace CD (the first, I think, sung by Sandra McCracken). It's catchy, hopeful, and has a feeling of driving-ever-onward. Unfortunately it's not as singable as, "Arise, My Soul, Arise" or "A Debtor to Mercy Alone" off that same album. Sidenote. On their RUF Hymnbook I (waded through the inexplicably horrendous grammar to) read the "History of the Hymn" and learned that he, too, went through the senseless tragedy of losing a sibling to marriage... no, really, it was a big deal. The legend is that years earlier he'd been dumped by a fiance who learned that he was going blind, and his sister had ever since been a great friend and caretaker to him, as he'd gone completely blind. (It is one thing to be born with a disability, and an entirely different thing for it begin to afflict you well into your adult life. With the former, you can be used to it, but with the latter the transition is so hard.) But now his sister was being united in a radical way with another man, to be responsible for her own family. He was back on his own. But through his sadness God actually brought him joy.

Verses 3 & 4: (but go read the others also!)

O Joy that seekest me through pain,
I cannot close my heart to thee;
I trace the rainbow through the rain,
and feel the promise is not vain
that morn shall tearless be.

O Cross that liftest up my head,
I dare not ask to fly from thee;
I lay in dust life's glory dead,
and from the ground there blossoms red
life that shall endless be.

What different responses these two men had to similar circumstances of ferocious loneliness! Van Gogh's characterized by despair and mutilation, Matheson's by hope--"...and hope does not put us to shame, because God's love has been poured into our hearts through the Holy Spirit who has been given to us." Romans 5:5
I like how Matheson mentions the temptation to close the heart to God's gift of joy--to essentially choose bitterness. But if I'm sensitive to God's will I will obediently receive his gift of comfort, not wallow in self-pity. It's strange to think that I would choose the negative option, but that's sin. I can flee from the cross, or I can linger and gain endless life.

On Jordan's Bank

Comfort, comfort my people, says your God.
Speak tenderly to Jerusalem,
and cry to her
that her warfare is ended,
that her iniquity is pardoned,
that she has received from the LORD’s hand
double for all her sins.
A voice cries: "In the wilderness prepare the way of the LORD;
make straight in the desert a highway for our God.
Every valley shall be lifted up,
and every mountain and hill be made low;
the uneven ground shall become level,
and the rough places a plain.
And the glory of the LORD shall be revealed,
and all flesh shall see it together,
for the mouth of the LORD has spoken."
Isaiah 40:1-5

On Jordan’s bank the Baptist’s cry
Announces that the Lord is nigh;
Come, then, and hearken, for he brings
Glad tidings from the King of kings!

Then cleansed be every breast from sin;
Make straight the way for God within;
Prepare we in our hearts a home,
Where such a mighty Guest may come.

For Thou art our Salvation, Lord,
Our Refuge, and our great Reward.
Without Thy grace our souls must fade
And wither like a flower decayed.

Stretch forth Thine hand, to heal our sore,
And make us rise and fall no more;
Once more upon Thy people shine,
And fill the world with love divine.

To Him Who left the throne of Heaven
To save mankind, all praise be given;
Like praise be to the Father done,
And Holy Spirit, Three in One.
(hymntime.com)

In those days John the Baptist came preaching in the wilderness of Judea, "Repent, for the kingdom of heaven is at hand." For this is he who was spoken of by the prophet Isaiah when he said,
"The voice of one crying in the wilderness: 'Prepare the way of the Lord;
make his paths straight.'"
Matthew 3

I know this comes a little late, but I think we could use a lot more Advent music in our lives. I love the image of our sinfulness as being a "sore". OK, maybe I don't love it, but I definitely approve. It's painful, ugly, persistently unhealed, until it's healed by Christ's hand. He "left the throne of Heaven"--think about that for a second--to become a newborn in a cattle trough. No golden fleece diapers. "To save mankind, all praise be given..."

According to Bebo Norman:

And the angels filled the sky
All of heaven wondered why
Why their King would choose to be
Be a baby born to die

And all fell silent
For the cry of an infant,
the voice of God
Was dividing history
For those with eyes to see,
the Son would shine
From earth that night

To break the chains
Of guilt and sin
To find us here
To pull us in
So we can join in Heaven's song
And with one voice around the throne
("Born to Die")

Sorry, Bebo, but I don't get a "wondering why" feeling from that glorious gathering. The angel that Joseph dreamed of said with purpose, "Joseph, son of David, do not fear to take Mary as your wife, for that which is conceived in her is from the Holy Spirit. She will bear a son, and you shall call his name Jesus, for he will save his people from their sins." (Matthew 1) The angels that visited the shepherds said, "Fear not, for behold, I bring you good news of great joy that will be for all the people. For unto you is born this day in the city of David a Savior, who is Christ the Lord. And this will be a sign for you: you will find a baby wrapped in swaddling cloths and lying in a manger." And suddenly there was with the angel a multitude of the heavenly host praising God and saying,
"Glory to God in the highest,
and on earth peace among those with whom he is pleased!" (Luke 2)

Who knows how much of God's plan the angels knew at that point? But clearly they knew that God's Son had become the Son of Man to save us, and they rejoiced in that.