“Jerusalem the Golden”

Sunday, January 14, 2024

But you have come to Mount Zion and to the city of the living God, the heavenly Jerusalem, and to innumerable angels in festal gathering, and to the assembly of the firstborn who are enrolled in heaven, and to God, the judge of all, and to the spirits of the righteous made perfect, and to Jesus, the mediator of a new covenant, and to the sprinkled blood that speaks a better word than the blood of Abel.

(Hebrews 12.22-24)

In the 12^th century AD a French Benedictine monk, Bernard of Cluny, wrote a long poem in Latin, entitled De contemptu mundi—“On Contempt for the World.”  In it, he mocked the sins and failings he saw, both in the world and in the religious establishment.  Writing satire, he exaggerated the moral degradation in order to make his point; but the substance of his accusations and observations served to demonstrate the universality of sin and the corruption of the world, even among those who professed to be God’s people.  But his goal was not simply to tear down the present age; rather, he wished to draw a contrast between the despicable state of the world, and the perfection of heaven.  In 1851, Anglican priest Jason M. Neale published his translation of this section of the poem into English verse.  Several popular hymns grew out of this effort, including the most enduring, Jerusalem the Golden.  It begins:

Jerusalem the golden,

        with milk and honey blest,

beneath thy contemplation

        sink heart and soul oppressed.

I know not, O I know not

        what joys await us there,

what radiancy of glory,

        what light beyond compare.

Most of this hymn is composed of lines from Scripture, supplemented with brief commentary.  John’s Revelation ends with a vision of “the holy city Jerusalem coming down out of heaven from God” (21.10), whose elaborate description includes the detail that “the city was pure gold, like clear glass” (v18).  The very next line continues the comparison to the earthly Jerusalem, invoking God’s oft-repeated promise to lead Israel into “a land flowing with milk and honey” (e.g. Ex 3.8), which is symbolic of the rest that awaits his people now (He 4.6-11).

Yet, despite the abundant promises and occasional descriptions of heaven, we must acknowledge that we’re only glimpsing the faintest hint of its true form, and even that is a stretch for our meager imagination!  John’s description above, that the city was made entirely of “pure gold, like clear glass” should be enough to clue us in—gold, you will note, is not typically transparent.  These images are symbolic representations, for us to picture in our feeble minds, and wonder.  Yet we recognize that “now we see in a mirror dimly, but then face to face” (1Co 13.12).

They stand, those halls of Zion,

        all jubilant with song,

and bright with many an angel,

        and all the martyr throng;

the Prince is ever in them,

        the daylight is serene:

the pastures of the blessed

        are decked in glorious sheen.

Again, these lines draw from Revelation.  Chapter 7 describes “a great multitude” (v9) of those “coming out of the great tribulation” (v14) including those who died for their faith, who “are before the throne of God and serve him day and night in his temple” (v15).  In chapter 14, those who wear the seal of God sing “a new song before the throne” (v3).  As for the Prince, he is Jesus, and he shines like the sun for the whole city:

And the city has no need of sun or moon to shine on it, for the glory of God gives it light, and its lamp is the Lamb. By its light will the nations walk, and the kings of the earth will bring their glory into it, and its gates will never be shut by day—and there will be no night there.

(Revelation 21.23-25)

The hymn continues:

There is the throne of David,

        and there, from care released,

the shout of them that triumph,

        the song of them that feast;

and they, who with their Leader,

        have conquered in the fight,

forever and forever

        are clad in robes of white.

God had repeatedly promised to set the Messiah on David’s throne, and Gabriel reiterated this to Mary, when he notified her that she would give birth to God’s Son: “And the Lord God will give to him the throne of his father David” (Lk 1.32).  Of course, the physical throne of David was long gone by this point; and Jesus never occupied the political position of monarch, in the way so many of the Jews expected of the Messiah.  David’s throne is in heaven, where Jesus “sat down at the right hand of the Majesty on high” (He 1.3), after completing his mission and returning to his home triumphant.

O sweet and blessed country,

        when shall I see thy face?

O sweet and blessed country,

        when shall I win thy grace?

Exult, O dust and ashes,

        the Lord shall by thy part:

His only, His forever

        thou shalt be, and thou art.

The hymn closes by stepping back to take in the whole scene, in our mind’s eye.  Even in our insufficient imagination, the contrast between this contemptible world and the actual presence of God cannot be overstated!  How wonderful it is, that the Almighty and righteous Father of all creation cares for such sinful beings as we, who are “but dust and ashes” before him (Ge 18.27)!  At present, our lot is to serve the Lord in this corrupted world; but he has allowed us, like Moses, to peer across the river into the promised land, gazing from afar on the rest that awaits us.  Let us hold fast to that hope, and pursue its fulfillment with endurance, clarity, and focus!

Jeremy Nettles

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