Earlier this spring, a new-to-us worship song called “The First Hymn” hit the airwaves. The lyrics were gleaned from a 1800-year-old scrap of papyrus that had been discovered 100 years ago and kept sealed away until recently. John Dickson, a professor at Wheaton College, tagged Chris Tomlin and Ben Fielding—both prolific and best-selling composers in Christian music—to bring it back to life with modern-day melodies.
Listen to the song here:
And listen to a conversation with John Dickson on the Undeceptions podcast, telling the story of how the worship song was resurrected.
Watch the documentary here.
A Unifying Re-creation
Sort of like reciting the Nicene Creed and the Lord's Prayer during weekly worship services acts as a unifying thread between believers across the geographical expanse and the historical span, “The First Hymn” unites believers of today with the believers of second-century Christendom. The same words in praise to the same God rise up from members of the same church on the same earth awaiting the same Savior. It is a beautiful, tangible link.
The Trinitarian theology of the original song is breathtaking:
“Let all be silent, the shining stars not sound forth,
all rushing rivers be stilled as we sing our hymn
to the Father, Son, the Holy Spirit,
as all powers cry out in answer, Amen, Amen,
might, praise and glory forever to our God,
the only giver of all good gifts. Amen. Amen.”
*Bonus: The discovery of such an early Trinitarian doxology strengthens scholars’ argument that the church worshiped Jesus as God (not just as a man) before the days of Constantine. The Megiddo Mosaic, currently on display at the Museum of the Bible, offers the same evidence in visual art form.
Missing Harmony
“I know that you have persevered and endured hardships for the sake of my name, and you have not grown weary. But I have this against you: You have abandoned the love you had at first.” (Rev 2:3–4)
The energy of this verse comes to mind when I think of “The First Hymn.” For all that it testifies to the long and unified worship of the one, true, triune God . . . for all that the team desired to recreate the song for modern ears . . . I have this against them: they left out the women.
History Tells a More Holistic Story
I’m not protesting from a “feminist” or even musical perspective. It’s not so much a wish for equal representation or a sense that blending male and female voices would sound better (though both are sufficient reasons to add women’s voices). No, I’m speaking from a desire for historical accuracy.
A worship song straight outta third-century Egyptian Christianity would have included—no, it would have been dominated by—alto and soprano voices. Historians agree that women comprised up to two-thirds of the church population during the first few centuries. Many of them served in leadership. Women, like men, led house churches. They served the poor, fed the hungry, supported the church through their finances, taught the Word of God, and died for their faith. Women then, like women today, were essential to the work of the church.
The gorgeous lyrics recently resurrected were sung by women whose voices soared along with the men’s as they worshiped together in the first few centuries. As beautiful as Tomlin and Fielding’s work turned out, the lack of women’s input misrepresents the reality of the original worshippers so long ago. The all-male production of “The First Hymn” strikes a discordant note, excluding the distinctive harmonies of female voices as well as women’s creative input into the writing and composition (Tomlin and Fielding developed the lyrical structure and melody within a two-way text thread). The hymn instead serves as a metaphor for the evangelical church of today, which values men’s voices above women’s.
A Metaphor for Evangelicalism
I am reminded of my first day as a student at Dallas Seminary in the mid-1990s. We gathered for chapel, all 300 men and 10 women (basically, the odds were ever in my favor for getting a date). As the introductory notes to the school song, “All Hail the Power of Jesus's Name,” played, I took a breath to start singing. “All—” I was stunned into silence at the thundering chorus of bass, baritone, and tenor voices surrounding me. It had not occurred to me that the lack of women would so drastically change the sound in the room.
It was lovely, at first. But I realized that, even if I wanted to sing, I couldn’t hear my own voice. Another metaphor for the evangelical church.
Like that chapel service, “The First Hymn“ is a beautiful yet incomplete expression of worship in which women are not heard. We can enjoy it—and I do! But I can’t help but wonder how an accurate sense of history could have inspired the team to create a fuller, multifaceted reflection of the body of Christ.
Christian women’s voices resonated in the third century. How can evangelicals in the twenty-first century more clearly echo our sacred siblings of the past?
“basically, the odds were ever in my favor for getting a date” made me almost spit out my water. But also, this post is so 🔥🔥
The hymn itself does not mention gender, which at the beginning I thought is where you were going with this…why allow so many church members’ first impression of it to be framed by gender-based church division? (Isn’t that what we are striving against?) Especially when there is more evidence that the intention of the composers was to be unifying? (IE: intentionally not gendering the original hymn writer & setting the lyrics to music that would be vocally accessible to as many people as possible)