At best, the song can be viewed as an awkward attempt to mingle glimpses of Christ’s suffering together with the death of Floyd, in order to point out the significance of the recent Minneapolis tragedy. At worst—and I will argue that this is in fact that case—the song does serious damage to the Name of our Lord by presenting Floyd as an object of worship. Ultimately, it twists a glorious hymn into an anti-Christian protest.

The Porter’s Gate released a new album on Friday, September 11, 2020 featuring the song, “O Sacred Neck, Now Wounded.” It is, as the title suggests, a rewrite of the great hymn, “O Sacred Head, Now Wounded,” though the new song focuses its singers on the death of George Floyd. The authors have even preserved the classic Bach-adapted Hassler melody, to add to the gravity of it. I would like address it because the song represents an unfortunate new development in Christian efforts to promote racial reconciliation.

At best, the song can be viewed as an awkward attempt to mingle glimpses of Christ’s suffering together with the death of Floyd, in order to point out the significance of the recent Minneapolis tragedy. At worst—and I will argue that this is in fact that case—the song does serious damage to the Name of our Lord by presenting Floyd as an object of worship. Ultimately, it twists a glorious hymn into an anti-Christian protest.

Floyd as Christ

O Sacred Neck conflates images of our Lord with George Floyd in a number of ways.

Though the authors maintain that the entire song about the death of Christ, the first half of stanza depicts the death of Floyd in no uncertain terms.

Consider the following:

• Line one pictures a “Neck… pressed down by wounds and knees,” which evokes the image of Floyd under Officer Chauvin.
• Line two describes the victim as “this son of God,” (as opposed to “the Son of God”), thus clearly referring to someone who is not Jesus.
• The victim is also “surrounded by silent enemies,” which is the opposite of Jesus, who was the silent Lamb surrounded by very loud enemies.

On the whole, though, the song makes Floyd and Christ more interchangeable than they are distinct. For example, most of the time the authors are careful to capitalize only those nouns which refer to Jesus, such as “Your justice, Your heartbeat” (st. 3), and “Sacred Head” (st. 2). Yet they break the rule in the opening words about Floyd’s “Sacred Neck… pressed down by blows and knees” (st. 1, ln. 1).

Capital letters matter in modern English. We rarely even see Bibles that offer God the honor of capitalizing his pronouns, and the authors of this song clearly demonstrate by their use of capitals that they understand how important this tradition is in identifying the matchless worth of Jesus over all else. Therefore, when they give the same honorific capital letters to Floyd’s “Sacred Neck” they are in no uncertain terms inviting singers to revere Floyd in the same way we would worship the “Sacred Head” of Jesus. The result is heresy.

George Floyd, Martyr of God?

A further problem is the way in which Floyd and his death are portrayed: Floyd is identified as “this son of God,” and “our brother,” whose “blood cries from the ground” like Abel’s. In other words, he is a martyr. The authors assert that his death came by “blows and knees,” “surrounded by silent enemies.” However, George Floyd’s death was not even remotely like the death of a Christian, and was likely due at to fentanyl overdose.

Consider the following:

• The Minneapolis police were attempting to arrest Floyd in response to a call from a local grocery store where Floyd had paid with a counterfeit $20 bill (here).
• Floyd famously shouted his final words, “I can’t breathe,” as Chauvin pressed a knee into Floyd’s neck. However, he also cried out “I can’t breathe” while he was in a police car, resisting arrest an officer, before being restrained on the street (here, watch 7:55).
• The Hennepin County Medical Examiner concluded that George Floyd died with fatal levels of fentanyl in his body (here), after months of pressure to conclude that drugs were not involved (here).

To be clear: Floyd’s death is a tragedy. It was unjust and deeply disturbing. But it bears zero resemblance to the innocent death of Jesus Christ, or to that of any true Christian Martyr.

In the logic of the New Testament, Floyd died because of his own sins.

For example, 1 Peter makes it extremely clear that not all suffering is equal, even if it is a Christian who suffers:

• 1 Pe 2:19-20a “For this is a gracious thing, when, mindful of God, one endures sorrows while suffering unjustly. For what credit is it if, when you sin and are beaten for it, you endure?”
• 1 Pe 4:14-16 “If you are insulted for the name of Christ, you are blessed, because the Spirit of glory and of God rests upon you. But let none of you suffer as a murderer or a thief or an evildoer or as a meddler. Yet if anyone suffers as a Christian, let him not be ashamed, but let him glorify God in that name.”

In other words, Floyd’s death reflects shamefully upon him. There is nothing honorable about dying as an actual criminal, however unjust the punishment. Thus, the song equates the suffering of innocent Jesus with the death of a drug abuser.

Jesus, the Victim?

Even more alarming, O Sacred Neck portrays the significance of Jesus’ death in overtly anti-Christian ways.

Stanza one asks, “Will no one rise and speak of violence and oppression which hanged You from that tree?” This requires us to ask the question of what the cross compels us to speak about. In this song, the cross demands that we speak against the violence and oppression which crucified Jesus.

However, this notion is totally absent from the New Testament. Consider Peter’s first sermon at Pentecost, where the Gospel was unveiled to thousands for the first time. Peter concluded with the words, “Let all the house of Israel therefore know for certain that God has made him both Lord and Christ, this Jesus whom you crucified” (Ac 2:36).

Peter’s message does not condemn oppression. Rather, it condemns the people who (Peter claims) crucified the Christ of God. But in what sense did Peter’s audience crucify Jesus? Most of these Pentecost pilgrims probably had little if anything to do with the Passover crucifixion. The only possible answer is that they crucified him in the same way that you and I crucified Christ: namely, that our sin was so heinous that it could only be atoned by the death of God’s only begotten Son. In other words, it was not someone else’s “violence and oppression,” but MY sin which is responsible for the cross.

But that explanation doesn’t go quite far enough in explaining why the song’s question is so totally wrong. The other problem is that the New Testament vigorously insists that the death of Jesus was no victimization at all. Rather, the cross was his plan all along. For example, John 10:18: “No one takes [my life] from me, but I lay it down of my own accord. I have authority to lay it down, and I have authority to take it up again.”

Or consider the Christ-hymn of Colossians 1, where Paul rejoices that Christ won the victory of reconciliation through the cross: “For in him all the fullness of God was pleased to dwell, and through him to reconcile to himself all things, whether on earth or in heaven, making peace by the blood of his cross” (vv. 19–20). This is why we don’t go around burning effigies of Pontius Pilate or Caesar when we remember the death of Jesus. Instead, we get down on our knees and cry out for mercy, and then give thanks to God for the all-surpassing love which he bestowed upon us through Christ Jesus, our savior!

In authentic Christianity, we speak out against the SIN of ourselves and of every human that required the cross. Therefore, we call everyone to “Repent and believe.” In O Sacred Neck, we are asked to speak out against the “violence and oppression which hanged him from that tree,” and we should speak out against the evil of others. Who exactly? Presumably the “silent enemies” (the Minneapolis police?).  But really, it doesn’t matter who we need to speak against so long as it’s not us, because as soon as my own greatest problem is anything other than my sin, I no longer need Christ.

Breaking Prison Doors

Unfortunately, the anti-Christian inferences don’t end there.

The third stanza describes what the life of a Christ-follower ought to look like. It concludes with the triumphant prayer, “Your life, it flows within us to break down prison doors!” The idea is that Christ living in us (i.e. the Holy Spirit) compels us to destroy prisons. If we lived in a different cultural moment, we could perhaps take this line to mean that we are to destroy some kind of poetic prison. However, we live in a time when actual police and actual prisons are actually under attack from riots, bombs, and Molotov cocktails. Thus, the line in the song must be taken as an endorsement of anti-police action.

This line is as opposed to the Gospel message as anything I’ve ever encountered. The Bible calls us to “Remember those who are in prison” (Heb 13:3), and to visit them. But it never calls for believers to break down their doors. Isaiah spoke of a day when “they shall beat their swords into plowshares, and their spears into pruning hooks” (Is 2:4). However, the idea was that we would turn our own weapons into farming equipment, and that we would do it because we no longer need them. If the authors are suggesting that we live in that world today, then they should turn on the television and look at some of the “fiery, but mostly peaceful protests” that are ravaging our streets.

Martyrs and Jesus

In one sense, all martyrs and true Christian sufferers suffer with and for Christ. We are the body, he is the head (Col 1:18). It is a precious thing to know that suffering for truth is a gift and honor from God (Ac 5:41). However, it is impossible to imagine any martyr at any time whose sufferings would be worthy of sharing our praise alongside the sufferings of our Lord. Think about it: Who from our rich pantheon of actual Christian martyrs belongs in a song beside Christ’s sufferings? Jim Elliot? John Wycliffe? John Chrysostom? Irenaeus of Lyons? The Apostle Peter? The Apostle Paul? Certainly not.

No Christ-follower’s stripes can live in verses about our Lord’s, because Jesus’ sufferings are sui generis. There is no one like him, whose very wounds can bear my own name and the names of countless others, and whose blood pleads a better sacrifice than anyone could offer. He is the matchless King, who died for unworthy sinners. His are the stripes of true redemption, by which all other pain and horror can be redeemed. He is the head, we are the body. All that we are is a derivative of Him.

Conclusion

I doubt that the authors of this song intended to engage in heresy and blasphemy. However, they clearly chose to publish it against the better judgment of others, because they released a mass-email on Thursday, September 10, admitting that it had already “generated some questions and inquiries.” The email attempted to normalize the lyrics by recalling that Jesus told us “we will see His face in the face of the prisoner.” This is most certainly true. Nevertheless, Jesus meant it in an ethical, not theological sense. In other words, by serving the criminal, we serve Christ. However, by worshiping a criminal, as O Sacred Neck invites us to do, we deny Christ.

Mike Littell is a Minister in the Presbyterian Church in America and is Pastor of South Dayton PCA in Centerville, Ohio.

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