My song is love unknown, my Savior’s love to me,
love to the loveless shown that they might lovely be.
O who am I, that for my sake
my Lord should take frail flesh, and die?
He came from his blest throne, salvation to bestow,
but men made strange, and none the longed-for Christ would know.
O my friend, my friend indeed,
who at my need, his life did spend.
Sometimes they strew his way, and his strong praises sing,
resounding all the day, hosannas to their King.
Then “Crucify” is all their breath,
and for his death they thirst and cry.
Why, what hath my Lord done? What makes this rage and spite?
He made the lame to run, he gave the blind their sight.
Sweet injuries! Yet they at these
themselves displease and ‘gainst him rise.
They rise, and needs will have my dear Lord made away;
a murderer they save, the Prince of Life they slay,
Yet steadfast he to suffering goes,
that he his foes from thence might free.
In life no house, no home my Lord on earth might have;
in death no friendly tomb, but what a stranger gave.
What may I say? Heaven was his home;
but mine the tomb wherein he lay.
Here might I stay and sing, no story so divine;
never was love, dear King, never was grief like thine.
This is my friend, in whose sweet praise
I all my days could gladly spend.
Words: Samuel Crossman (1624-1683)
Music: “Love Unknown”, John Ireland (1879-1962)
This is one of my most favorite hymns! I melt at these words, especially sung to the poignant and lilting melody of John Ireland’s “Love Unknown”. The poet seems to beautifully meld the pain of friendship offered, love given and yet so tragically, so thoughtlessly discarded. Crossman’s lyrics tell the story of Jesus’s life and death and wraps it the name of friendship. Friendship poured out.
The friendship of Jesus might be my favorite thing about my faith. What began in my childhood – something like a secret playmate – has become the mainstay, the bulwark, of my life. He has unwaveringly taught me about his deep and rewarding companionship. Lately, I have become fascinated with the stories and verses of scripture that speak to the friendship of God. In them, I have learned that the Hebrew word hesed, which means “steadfast love”, can also be translated “merciful kindness”, which explains why it is so often used to describe our Lord. His greatest act of love was his merciful kindness to us.
The kindness of Jesus is not just friendliness, as we know it. It is not just a “bosom buddy” to chatter alongside us as we go our way. His kindness goes much deeper than our understanding of friendship. It is closer to our idea of love – a committed, enduring, emptying kind of love – the kind that leads one to die for a friend – a brother, a child, a spouse. Isn’t that what Jesus said? “Greater love has no one than this that someone lay down his life for his friends.” (John 15:13). And of course, that is what he did.
The marvel is that he calls us his friends. “You are my friends,” he says, to the greedy ones who take his favors but run from his side when the clouds grow dark and the crowds restless (John 15:14). What sweet injuries we must afflict on him in the course of his persistent friendship to us! Oh, how we can turn our head and snub the Prince of Life. So easily. So easily. And yet in his mercy, he never turned his head away from us. He steadfastly walked to the cross. He endured the shame, the pain, for us. In that act of kindness, we are forgiven for our thoughtless offenses, our penchant for ourselves. In pouring himself out for our sake, we are given what we need the most: peace with God. He did it for us, and perhaps for himself, so that we may know His friendship, of all things! What kind of love is this? This love is kind. It does not count the cost. It endures all things (1 Corinthians 13:4,7). Here, we might stay, all our days, by such a friend’s side.
So, I find myself, at the start of Holy Week, reaching out for Jesus’ hand. I want him to take my hand, like a friend, and show me the ironical beauty of this deep love he has – for me, for you, for the world. I think he wants us to understand what he has done for us. He wants us to know something of this love, unknown by the world that so desperately cries out for it. When we begin to perceive it, we will want to linger in it, like Crossman in his last verse. Yes, let us linger in this sweet friendship of Jesus this week. He has something he wants us to know.
“No longer do I call you servants,
for the servant does not know what his master is doing;
but I have called you friends,
for all that I have heard from my Father
I have made known to you.
You did not choose me, but I chose you.”
John 15:15-16