Boldly Singing “Son”

We sang “Be Thou My Vision” last week at church and, as always, I was curious to see which version of the second verse we would use. The traditional verse reads:

Be thou my vision, and thou my true Word;
I ever with thee, and thou with me, Lord.
Thou my great Father and I thy true son,
Thou in me dwelling and I with thee one.

But in recent years, many churches have begun singing gender neutral revisions such as the following:

Be thou my wisdom, and thou my true Word;
I ever with thee and thou with me, Lord.
Thou my great Father, I thy dear child;
Thou in me dwelling, with thee reconciled.

Or consider this one, to share another example:

Be thou my wisdom, be thou my true word,
I ever with thee and thou with me Lord;
thou my great Father, and I thy true heir;
thou in me dwelling, and I in thy care.

Both of these revisions work thematically, poetically, and theologically. I would never refuse to sing them. And yet, it is worth asking why we feel compelled to edit out the word “son.” What do we gain by doing so? Perhaps more to the point: what do we lose?

Madeleine L’Engle on Desexed Hymns

In her beautiful book, Walking on Water: Reflections on Faith and Art, Madeleine L’Engle ponders this shift toward gender-neutral language. She writes:

To substitute person for man has ruined what used to be a good theological word, calling up the glory of God’s image within us. Now, at best, it’s a joke. There’s something humiliating and embarrassing about being a chairperson. Or a chair. A group of earnest women have put together a volume of desexed hymns, and one of my old favorites now begins:

Dear Mother-Father of personkind…”

No. It won’t do. This is not equality. Perhaps we should drop the word woman altogether and use man, recognizing that we need both male and female to be whole.¹

Changing “son” to “child” or “heir” most likely comes from a good intention: to emphasize that in Christ both sexes possess equal dignity and an equal share in eternal life (Gal. 3:28). It is right to ensure that our songs and sermons address and dignify both men and women. At the same time, it is worth considering whether a better understanding of Christian sonship might render “son” the more appropriate (and powerful!) word after all, just as L’Engle saw something unifying and dignifying about referring to all humanity as included in “man.”

The Cost of a Single Word

Is changing a single word in a hymn really a big deal? Is it really worth a full blog post? It’s important to remember that in metered, rhyming poetry—and thus in hymns—changing one word likely means changing multiple words. And the problem with changing words is that it is difficult to avoid changing meanings. Both of the revised verses I included above maintain orthodoxy and poetics. They found different rhymes, but stayed more or less true to the heart of the hymn. And yet, both end up with an altered (though still acceptable) emphasis.

The original verse emphasizes union with Christ. And, indeed, this is the heart of our sonship as believers. The first revision I included stays close to this idea, focusing on God indwelling believers by the Spirit and the reconciliation brought through Christ. Both good and worthy subjects. I’ll gladly lend my voice to this verse.

I like the word “heir” better than “child,” so the second revision earns a point for this. Being an heir is much closer to the original idea of being a son. The rest of this revised verse falls short, however. It is not wrong, but it is not strong. As with the others, it begins with “thou in me dwelling” and thus contains echoes of of the original emphasis. But then it ends with “and I in thy care,” which is true and good but, I’m afraid, lazy. It does not exactly stray from the theme of union with Christ but it does not capture it with the precision or power of the traditional option or even the first revised version.

All this to say, when you revise a word in a hymn, be aware that you may, in fact, be altering the hymn itself. Sometimes this is necessary, sometimes arbitrary, and sometimes unhelpful. In the above example, I would say that it was unnecessary—not really detrimental, but also not worthwhile.

To quote L’Engle again, “Where language is weak, theology is weakened.”² Let’s take care to revise our language so that our theology is strengthened, not diluted. Now, let’s consider the strength of the word “son.”

The Amazing Grace of Sonship

We live in a time and culture that somehow manages to pit the sexes against each other while thoroughly confusing them. It is certainly easier in such a time to sing of children and heirs than of sons. But so much can be gained from recovering a historical and biblical understanding of sonship. When we do so, we will discover why it is so astonishing that all Christians are counted as sons of God.

Throughout the ancient world, sonship was a key concept. It carried with it a sense of familial belonging and identity, even continued vocation. Sons were heirs. They were held to higher standards than other members of the household. They carried on the family lines. To be named and treated as a son was a privilege and honor.

Sonship in Christianity takes the best of these ancient concepts and applies them to all who are in Christ—the Son. In the St. Andrews Encyclopaedia of Theology, Joshua Maurer and Amy Peeler explain that the sonship of believers is directly connected to union with Christ:

The sons have intimacy with the Father because the Son has intimacy with the Father. The sons, in the power of the ‘Spirit of his Son’ (Gal 4:6), honour the Father in obedience and holiness because the Son honours the Father in perfect obedience and holiness. The sons endure suffering in this futile and sinful world because the Son endured suffering. The sons will be glorified because the Son was and is glorified. The sonship of believers is what it is precisely because it is grounded upon, realized in, and patterned after Christ, the Son.³

This indicates that the traditional verse is the most theologically coherent, for it transitions logically from the language of sonship to that of union with Christ, the Son. It also points toward the amazing grace of sonship. One with Christ, we have intimacy with the Father and power in the Spirit. We endure suffering because Christ endured, and we enjoy the victory and glory he won. We wholeheartedly embrace our status of sons because we have been made one with the Son.

Do you see why the language of sonship is important? It clearly points us toward our identity as believers: beloved, privileged children of God and heirs with Christ.

I love how the entry in the St. Andrews Encyclopaedia of Theology concludes. The authors acknowledge that “child” is a more immediately accessible word to our modern ears, but fails to make a clear connection to Jesus’s relationship to God. They conclude that “son” language is thus surprisingly inclusive, for “by using sonship language to apply to women as well as men, female addressees are being invited into spaces and realities often denied them in the ancient world.”⁴

When we sing of our sonship, we sing of the equal dignity of men and women in the Kingdom of God. We sing of our unity with the Son and our shared inheritance in him.

Conclusion

The worship leader at my church chose the traditional version, for which I am thankful. However, my goal in writing this post is not to convince worship leaders to stop singing “child” or “heir” if they genuinely believe this will be clearer to their congregations. Instead, I hope this post encourages congregants—whether male or female—to sing of their sonship with understanding, confidence, and amazement.

Ryanne Molinari