The following is an article I wrote for our parish’s newsletter, Tidings, published in March 2010.

A favorite Lenten hymn of many is “My Song Is Love Unknown.” It’s one of my wife’s favorites, too, and I remember fondly one year while we lived in Illinois Kassie suggesting we work at memorizing it during Lent. We would sing it at home, and then see how much we could recite while taking our early-morning walk (another thing we should probably revive!). It has a haunting melody, although I must confess the opening notes always makes me think of Tom Petty’s “You Got Lucky,” which is not exactly appropriate Lenten material.

One line from the hymn has increasingly bothered me, however. In the fifth stanza the hymn sings of Christ, “Yet cheerful He To suffering goes That He His foes From thence might free.” My understanding of the Passion narratives is that Jesus was anything but cheerful as He went to the cross for us. “My soul is very sorrowful, even to death” (Mt. 26:38), Jesus told His disciples in the garden of Gethsemane, shortly before He was arrested. When He prayed there, He said, “My Father, if it be possible, let this cup pass from me” (Mt. 26:39). Hardly the words of someone going cheerfully! Luke’s Gospel is explicit about the demeanor of our Lord at the beginning of His Passion: “And being in agony [Jesus] prayed more earnestly; and his sweat became like great drops of blood falling down to the ground” (Lk. 22:44). Thus I have never been able to reconcile the cry, “My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?” with the idea of a cheerful Jesus going to suffering.

Long had I assumed this was just an error in translation, but the original text is in fact English. It was written by Samuel Crossman, an English clergyman who lived c. 1624-1683. He served for awhile simultaneously as pastor of both a Church of England congregation and a Puritan congregation. This caused him to be expelled from the Church of England in 1662, although he was later restored in 1665.

Perhaps the word cheerful had different nuances in the seventeenth century. I don’t have the resources at my disposal to research that. But a glance at the American Heritage Dictionary may provide some aid and comfort. The first meaning of cheerful, “Being in good spirits, merry” is how I have been thinking of the term in this context, as is the second: “Promoting a feeling of cheer; pleasant.” It’s the third definition that intrigues: “Reflecting willingness or good humor.” The cross was no Monty Python event (“Always look on the bright side of life, do doot, do doot, do doot do doot do doot!”). But Jesus was most definitely willing, or rather, submissive to the will of the Father: “Nevertheless, not my will, but yours, be done” (Lk. 22:42). “For this reason the Father loves me,” Jesus said, “because I lay down my life that I may take it up again. No one takes it from me, but I lay it down of my own accord” (Jn. 10:17-18). So, when Peter takes up arms to defend Jesus, the Lord rebuked him, citing his complete acceptance of the Father’s will: “Put your sword into its sheath; shall I not drink the cup that the Father has given me?” (Jn. 18:11).

Rest assured (Greg H., I’m talking to you), we will certainly continue to sing this hymn. Lutheran Service Book appoints it for the hymn of the day on Judica (Lent V), and I like to sing it on Palm Sunday as well. But when you sing, “Cheerful He to suffering goes,” remember that the whipping, nails, spitting and thorns were not cheerful business. Jesus was not in good spirits or merry. But He was most definitely willing, because it was the only way we could be redeemed, forgiven, saved from death and everlasting hell. Another Lenten hymn expresses that so beautifully: “Yes, Father, yes, most willingly I’ll bear what You command Me. My will conforms to Your decree, I’ll do what You have asked Me” (LSB 438, “A Lamb Goes Uncomplaining Forth”). And that should make us Christians cheerful indeed!

Your unworthy undershepherd,

+Pastor Esget