A reminder that during our Lenten journey, Saturdays will be somewhat different as we sit with an instrumental version of a beloved hymn or song and take time to ponder the meaning of its lyrics. Only a brief word about the history of the hymn will serve as an introduction, and then after our Scripture reading you are invited to read the lyrics slowly and prayerfully while you listen to the instrumental rendition.
Words of Reflection
When we consider the wounds of Jesus we focus on the nails that pierced his hands and feet, as well as the sword that pierced his side. But there is another wound mentioned in the gospel accounts which has captured the hearts and minds of theologians and artists alike through the years:
“Then the soldiers of the governor took Jesus into the governor’s headquarters, and they gathered the whole cohort around him. They stripped him and put a scarlet robe on him, and after twisting some thorns into a crown they put it on his head. They put a reed in his right hand and knelt before him and mocked him, saying, ‘Hail, King of the Jews!’ They spat on him and took the reed and struck him on the head. After mocking him, they stripped him of the robe and put his own clothes on him. Then they led him away to crucify him.”—-Matthew 27:27-31 (NRSV)
The crown of thorns is a powerful symbol of the week into which we are about to enter. It was given as a symbol of mockery, but it is also a symbol of truth: Jesus is King. And now this King willingly lays down his life for his subjects. There is, indeed, no greater love.
The familiar Lenten hymn, “O Sacred Head Now Wounded” has uncertain origins. It has been dated by scholars to somewhere between the 11th and the 14th century. Many of those who believe the earlier dating attribute it to Bernard of Clairvaux, a Benedictine monk who served as Abbot of Clairvaux Abbey from 1115-1128 A.D., and who was known for his rich understanding of theology, poetry, and music.
“O Sacred Head Now Wounded” is part of a much larger work known as Salve Mundi Salutare (“Hail the World’s Salvation”), a poem about Christ’s suffering on Good Friday. The poem itself is divided into seven sections, each addressing a different part of Jesus’ body: his feet, knees, hands, side, breast, heart, and his head.
As you spend some time with the haunting melody of this hymn and the penetrating words, here is just a stanza of that larger poem to begin your journey of contemplation for today. May it draw you near to Jesus the Crucified King as you prepare to begin the journey of Holy Week.
O force me, best Beloved, to draw to Thee,
Transfixed and bleeding on the shameful Tree,
Despised and stretched in dying agony!
All my desire, O Lord, is fixed on Thee;
O call me, then, and I will follow Thee.I have no other love, dear Lord, but Thee;
Thou art my first and last; I cling to Thee.
It is no labor, Lord; love sets me free;
Then heal me, cleanse me, let me rest on Thee,
For love is life, and life is love--in Thee.
Scripture for Meditation:
I will declare your name to my people; in the assembly I will praise you.
You who fear the Lord, praise him!
All you descendants of Jacob, honor him!
Revere him, all you descendants of Israel!
For he has not despised or scorned the suffering of the afflicted one;
He has not hidden his face from him but has listened to his cry for help.
—Psalm 22:22-24 (NIV)
Song: O Sacred Head, Now Wounded
Time of Contemplation:
Read through the lyrics of this hymn slowly and prayerfully. Read them more than once, and pay attention to the movement of your soul as you pray. What words or phrases grab your attention? Why? As you finish, sit in prayerful silence before God and ask the Holy Spirit to reveal to you something of your need and God’s provision that emerges from these words.
O sacred Head now wounded
With grief and shame weighed down
Now scornfully surrounded
With thorns Thine only crown
How pale Thou art with anguish
With sore abuse and scorn
How does that visage lanquish
Which once was bright as mornWhat Thou my Lord has suffered
Was all for sinners' gain
Mine mine was the transgression
But Thine the deadly pain
Lo here I fall my Savior
'Tis I deserve Thy place
Look on me with Thy favor
Vouchsafe to me Thy graceWhat language shall I borrow
To thank Thee dearest Friend
For this Thy dying sorrow
Thy pity without end
O make me Thine forever
And should I fainting be
Lord let me never never
Outlive my love to Thee
Bernard of Clairvaux | Hans Leo Hassler | James Waddell Alexander | Paulus Gerhardt
© Words: Public Domain; Music: Public Domain