"...In the Garden of the Lord..."
Do you hear the people sing
Lost in the valley of the night?
It is the music of a people
Who are climbing to the light.
For the wretched of the earth
There is a flame that never dies;
Even the darkest night will end,
And the sun will rise.
They will live again in freedom
In the garden of the Lord.
They will walk behind the plough-share,
They will put away the sword.
The chain will be broken
And all men will have their reward.
Will you join in our crusade?
Who will be strong and stand with me?
Somewhere beyond the barricade
Is there a world you long to see?
Do you hear the people sing?
Say, do you hear the distant drums?
It is the future that they bring
When tomorrow comes!
So goes the final chorus of the musical, Les Miserables. As a Hebrew scholar, what's remarkable to me about this piece of exquisite poetry is that nearly all the imagery is taken directly from ancient Hebrew writings in the Tanakh (i.e. the Old Testament of the Bible). I would like to expound on this imagery as it is used in the song, which mirrors the usage of the imagery in the ancient documents.
First, let's identify the images in the song that are NOT taken from the Hebrew writings: of singing and music; of the valley and climbing; of the barricade and its rhyming term, crusade; of the broken chain; and finally, of distant drums. The concepts of music and singing are to be expected, since the poem itself is a song set in a musical drama. The image of the barricade comes from the immediate context, a musical depicting the events of the June Rebellion in Paris during the summer of 1832. None of these images provide the primary meaning of the lyrics, however. Rather, particularly in the case of the barricade and distant drums, these images are endued with their meaning in this particular context by the other images in the song, taken from the Hebrew writings.
The most easily recognized images appear in the middle section, the single stanza of the poem that contains six lines instead of the usual four. Let us examine the first line, "They will live again in freedom in the garden of the Lord." In this line, the author introduces the source text for the poem's imagery as well as the central theme that the poem expounds. The specific phrase that sets the source text for the poem is, "the garden of the Lord." This is fairly recognizable as a reference to the biblical story of the garden of Eden, sometimes also called the "garden of God" in the Hebrew writings. In case there is any doubt of this, the term "the Lord" proves the case. Since ancient times, the Hebrews would not voice the name of their deity, Yahweh, because of religious traditions rooted in the Ten Commandments. They would instead say, "the Lord," just as it is rendered in our English Bible nowadays (usually in all caps, the "LORD"). So we have established that the author is drawing from the imagery of the ancient Hebrew writings, as we will continue to see.
Let us now examine the phrase, "They will live again in freedom...." The key word here is again. The song is making a statement about a future life; not the present life, but a life after death. It turns out, this small detail makes all the difference in the song. What gives the poetry its power is not a pie-in-the-sky type of unfounded sentimentalism that somehow the poor and wretched of the earth will lift themselves from their squalor and everything will be right as rain. Our collective human experience proves the falsehood of these dreams, honorable though they are. No, the poem declares that the freedom of the oppressed peoples of the world lies not in this life, but in the next. Ironically, though, this declaration is paired with a call to action of behalf of poor and wretched souls on earth now. But I'm getting ahead of myself.
Where will these poor and wretched people live in freedom? In the garden of the Lord, i.e. in paradise, with God. [I won't relate all the details of the story of the Garden of Eden because it's so familiar, but the main point is that humankind is banished from paradise on account of sin, because they have disobeyed God.] This sense of freedom is described throughout the prophetic Hebrew literature in terms of peace; and in a few select locations, using the contrasting ideas of a sword to represent violence and war and a plough-share to represent peace and work (specifically the work of tilling ground). This image is also familiar, since it comes from the patron text of the United Nations: "They will beat their swords into plough-shares and their spears into pruning hooks. Nation will not take up sword against nation, nor will they train for war any more" (Isaiah 2:4b). This is quoted again by the prophet Micah (Micah 4:3), and a strange inversion of it by the prophet Joel in calling the nations to prepare for war as a divine judgment on Israel (Joel 3:10). The main point here is that the elysian vision of the Hebrew writers was a return to life in the Garden of Eden -- a life of peace with God, peace with humanity, peace with the cosmos.
When does this paradisical life occur? The song avers this will happen when the "chain is broken" and "all men have their reward." At this point, we still do not know what is meant by the chain, so we will pass over it for now. However, given the biblical imagery already offered in the stanza, we can understand the thought that all men will have their reward. In the Hebrew vision, the life of peace and justice is brought about because God Himself, as divine judge, will mete out to all people what they deserve. If we look in the Isaiah text to the line immediately preceding the bit about swords and plough-shares, we read, "[The LORD] will judge between the nations and will settle disputes for many peoples" (Isaiah 2:4a). Again, this is an undeniable theme throughout all of the literature of the Hebrew Bible. The Hebrew sages continually urge their readers not to fall into wickedness because "the day of the LORD" is coming when He will judge everything and everyone. Take note of this metaphor ... the day of the Lord.
So we have now set forth the fundamental ideas of the poem, centered around the middle stanza: that the hope of the poor rests not in the present time, but in the afterlife, living in paradise in the presence of God, following the just judgment of God in dispensing justice both on the oppressor and for the oppressed of the world. The person and action of God cannot be divorced from this vision, for it is He who actuates it. But the song goes one step further here to suggest that God will not simply judge on behalf of the oppressed in paradise, but that God is doing so even now, in the present life. This we will see presently.
We now come to the first image in the previous stanza, i.e. the everlasting fire. "For the wretched of the earth there is a flame that never dies; ...." The question is, of course, "What is the 'flame that never dies?'" Once again, the answer comes from the Hebrew writings. The specific reference to a fire that never goes out is found in Exodus 3, in the lesser-known story of Moses and the burning bush. "The angel of the LORD appeared to [Moses] in flames of fire within a bush. Moses saw that though the bush was on fire it did not burn up." In case there is any doubt about who is here in the fire, the text identifies Him two sentences later: "...God called to him from within the bush, 'Moses! Moses!'" God Himself is the everlasting fire. The poem is saying that God is the present hope of the oppressed, but that this present hope is grounded in the reality of future judgment, when the night is over and the sun rises.
Let us now consider the nature of this night and the coming dawn. In the imagery taken from the Hebrew writings thus far, it seems clear enough that the terms night and light are metaphors for death and resurrection. Not only this, but even the Hebrew text itself uses the same metaphors in the same way! I have already mentioned that the Hebrew writers referred to the coming judgment of God as the day of the LORD. In the Hebrew worldview, a day started with the evening; thus the movement of a day in the Hebrew mind was from darkness to light, from dusk to dawn, from night to day. This same mindset extended to their vision of the afterlife as well. To the ancient Hebrew, death was not permanent but temporary, like sleep. In fact, one of the clearest texts showing the Israelite view of the afterlife affirms this very thing. "There will be a time of distress such as has not happened from the beginning of nations until then. ... Multitudes who sleep in the dust of the earth will awake: some to everlasting life, others to shame and everlasting contempt. Those who are wise will shine like the brightness of the heavens, and those who lead many to righteousness, like the stars for ever and ever" (Daniel 12:1-3). Death is the sleep of night, followed by the awakening of resurrection, at which time the judgment will occur and the afterlife (or after-death, for some) will commence. This use of night/darkness contrasted with the coming day/light as metaphors for death and resurrection is central throughout each stanza of the poem and finds its climax in the final line, "...when tomorrow comes!" Death is the night, the chain, the barricade, the distant drums. In the future, at dawn, comes judgment, and after that, the world beyond the barricade ... paradise.
All this brings us to the central theme of the poem, the fundamental question that the author asks the listener. Do you see the world beyond the barricade, or have you shut your eyes? When the people sing, they are singing of their lostness in the night and their hope for a new day. Do you hear them sing, or are your ears stopped up? And most directly, will you join in God's crusade on behalf of justice for the poor and oppressed, not only for tomorrow, but for today? Or will you, like the general populace of Paris, do nothing? The drums are beating. Judgment is coming. And when it comes, will you stand or fall?
This is the message of the song. But if you will indulge me for just a moment longer, I want to press the issue a little further -- further than is explicitly expressed in the poem, because the central question of the song begs a deeper question still. Finally, what actually makes the difference between those who pass the judgment, and those who fail? I believe the song hints at the answer, but we must look back to the Hebrew writings to see it fully. In the Garden of Eden story, death is the penalty for sin, and eternal life is only gained by eating the fruit of a certain tree, the Tree of Life. However, God evicted humankind from paradise and placed the cherubim at the entrance to the Garden of Eden. Now often, the images conjured up in our minds are one or two large flaming angels, wielding longswords and looking fierce, ready to cut down anyone who attempts to re-enter paradise. But I do not believe this is the proper conception from the Hebrew text. And the key lies in the flame imagery, not just highlighted in the song but developed in the ancient writings as well. Here is my translation of the verse in Hebrew:
"And [God] made to dwell in front of the Garden of Eden the cherubim and the flame of the sword that goes back and forth, to keep the way to the Tree of Life" (Gen. 3:24).
Now, these are my personal opinions only, but I believe the purpose of the cherubim, the flame, and the sword is NOT to prevent humankind from eating from the Tree of Life. That objective was already achieved by sending humankind out from paradise. The objective of the cherubim, the flame, and the sword is to ensure that a way remains for people still to eat from the tree and live forever in spite of the punishment of death that has already come to all humanity. In other words, God has provided a way to escape the punishment -- not to avoid death, but rather to pass through death and come out the other side -- just as Noah and his family came out the other side of the flood, and the Israelites came out the other side of the Red Sea. If we understand the story of the Garden of Eden in this way, this draws our attention as the reader to these objects in the story: the cherubim, the flame, and the two-edged sword. [Because of the grammatical construction, it's difficult to tell from the Hebrew text whether the flame and the sword are different objects or the same object.] I will not address the cherubim here because it would take too long to explain. The flame imagery, in the context of the Hebrew writings, seems to speak of God; that is, that God Himself keeps the way to the Tree of Life, so one must pass through Him in order to live forever. This much is not difficult to understand. But what about the sword?
For the answer, let us turn to the book of Revelation, which expounds much imagery from the early Genesis texts. When St. John sees the vision of the risen Jesus on the Isle of Patmos, he writes, "In his right hand [Jesus] held seven stars, and coming out of his mouth was a sharp, two-edged sword. His face was like the sun shining in all its brilliance" (Rev. 1:16). And just a little bit later Jesus says, "Whoever has ears to hear, let him hear what the Spirit says to the churches. To the one who is victorious, I will give the right to eat from the tree of life, which is in the paradise of God." I believe this refers to the ancient Tree of Life in the Garden of Eden story, just like the tree in the Eternal City mentioned in Revelation 22 also refers to the same Tree of Life.
Jesus of Nazareth keeps the way to the Tree of Life. And the message of the Hebrew writings, as developed by the later Jewish writers who came to embrace Jesus as LORD, is that He is the difference between those who stand or fall at the final judgment. If you claim Jesus, you will forever live. If you do not claim Him, you will forever die. The hope of the poor, and of all humanity, is with Jesus. He is the Flame That Never Dies.
Lost in the valley of the night?
It is the music of a people
Who are climbing to the light.
For the wretched of the earth
There is a flame that never dies;
Even the darkest night will end,
And the sun will rise.
They will live again in freedom
In the garden of the Lord.
They will walk behind the plough-share,
They will put away the sword.
The chain will be broken
And all men will have their reward.
Will you join in our crusade?
Who will be strong and stand with me?
Somewhere beyond the barricade
Is there a world you long to see?
Do you hear the people sing?
Say, do you hear the distant drums?
It is the future that they bring
When tomorrow comes!
So goes the final chorus of the musical, Les Miserables. As a Hebrew scholar, what's remarkable to me about this piece of exquisite poetry is that nearly all the imagery is taken directly from ancient Hebrew writings in the Tanakh (i.e. the Old Testament of the Bible). I would like to expound on this imagery as it is used in the song, which mirrors the usage of the imagery in the ancient documents.
First, let's identify the images in the song that are NOT taken from the Hebrew writings: of singing and music; of the valley and climbing; of the barricade and its rhyming term, crusade; of the broken chain; and finally, of distant drums. The concepts of music and singing are to be expected, since the poem itself is a song set in a musical drama. The image of the barricade comes from the immediate context, a musical depicting the events of the June Rebellion in Paris during the summer of 1832. None of these images provide the primary meaning of the lyrics, however. Rather, particularly in the case of the barricade and distant drums, these images are endued with their meaning in this particular context by the other images in the song, taken from the Hebrew writings.
The most easily recognized images appear in the middle section, the single stanza of the poem that contains six lines instead of the usual four. Let us examine the first line, "They will live again in freedom in the garden of the Lord." In this line, the author introduces the source text for the poem's imagery as well as the central theme that the poem expounds. The specific phrase that sets the source text for the poem is, "the garden of the Lord." This is fairly recognizable as a reference to the biblical story of the garden of Eden, sometimes also called the "garden of God" in the Hebrew writings. In case there is any doubt of this, the term "the Lord" proves the case. Since ancient times, the Hebrews would not voice the name of their deity, Yahweh, because of religious traditions rooted in the Ten Commandments. They would instead say, "the Lord," just as it is rendered in our English Bible nowadays (usually in all caps, the "LORD"). So we have established that the author is drawing from the imagery of the ancient Hebrew writings, as we will continue to see.
Let us now examine the phrase, "They will live again in freedom...." The key word here is again. The song is making a statement about a future life; not the present life, but a life after death. It turns out, this small detail makes all the difference in the song. What gives the poetry its power is not a pie-in-the-sky type of unfounded sentimentalism that somehow the poor and wretched of the earth will lift themselves from their squalor and everything will be right as rain. Our collective human experience proves the falsehood of these dreams, honorable though they are. No, the poem declares that the freedom of the oppressed peoples of the world lies not in this life, but in the next. Ironically, though, this declaration is paired with a call to action of behalf of poor and wretched souls on earth now. But I'm getting ahead of myself.
Where will these poor and wretched people live in freedom? In the garden of the Lord, i.e. in paradise, with God. [I won't relate all the details of the story of the Garden of Eden because it's so familiar, but the main point is that humankind is banished from paradise on account of sin, because they have disobeyed God.] This sense of freedom is described throughout the prophetic Hebrew literature in terms of peace; and in a few select locations, using the contrasting ideas of a sword to represent violence and war and a plough-share to represent peace and work (specifically the work of tilling ground). This image is also familiar, since it comes from the patron text of the United Nations: "They will beat their swords into plough-shares and their spears into pruning hooks. Nation will not take up sword against nation, nor will they train for war any more" (Isaiah 2:4b). This is quoted again by the prophet Micah (Micah 4:3), and a strange inversion of it by the prophet Joel in calling the nations to prepare for war as a divine judgment on Israel (Joel 3:10). The main point here is that the elysian vision of the Hebrew writers was a return to life in the Garden of Eden -- a life of peace with God, peace with humanity, peace with the cosmos.
When does this paradisical life occur? The song avers this will happen when the "chain is broken" and "all men have their reward." At this point, we still do not know what is meant by the chain, so we will pass over it for now. However, given the biblical imagery already offered in the stanza, we can understand the thought that all men will have their reward. In the Hebrew vision, the life of peace and justice is brought about because God Himself, as divine judge, will mete out to all people what they deserve. If we look in the Isaiah text to the line immediately preceding the bit about swords and plough-shares, we read, "[The LORD] will judge between the nations and will settle disputes for many peoples" (Isaiah 2:4a). Again, this is an undeniable theme throughout all of the literature of the Hebrew Bible. The Hebrew sages continually urge their readers not to fall into wickedness because "the day of the LORD" is coming when He will judge everything and everyone. Take note of this metaphor ... the day of the Lord.
So we have now set forth the fundamental ideas of the poem, centered around the middle stanza: that the hope of the poor rests not in the present time, but in the afterlife, living in paradise in the presence of God, following the just judgment of God in dispensing justice both on the oppressor and for the oppressed of the world. The person and action of God cannot be divorced from this vision, for it is He who actuates it. But the song goes one step further here to suggest that God will not simply judge on behalf of the oppressed in paradise, but that God is doing so even now, in the present life. This we will see presently.
We now come to the first image in the previous stanza, i.e. the everlasting fire. "For the wretched of the earth there is a flame that never dies; ...." The question is, of course, "What is the 'flame that never dies?'" Once again, the answer comes from the Hebrew writings. The specific reference to a fire that never goes out is found in Exodus 3, in the lesser-known story of Moses and the burning bush. "The angel of the LORD appeared to [Moses] in flames of fire within a bush. Moses saw that though the bush was on fire it did not burn up." In case there is any doubt about who is here in the fire, the text identifies Him two sentences later: "...God called to him from within the bush, 'Moses! Moses!'" God Himself is the everlasting fire. The poem is saying that God is the present hope of the oppressed, but that this present hope is grounded in the reality of future judgment, when the night is over and the sun rises.
Let us now consider the nature of this night and the coming dawn. In the imagery taken from the Hebrew writings thus far, it seems clear enough that the terms night and light are metaphors for death and resurrection. Not only this, but even the Hebrew text itself uses the same metaphors in the same way! I have already mentioned that the Hebrew writers referred to the coming judgment of God as the day of the LORD. In the Hebrew worldview, a day started with the evening; thus the movement of a day in the Hebrew mind was from darkness to light, from dusk to dawn, from night to day. This same mindset extended to their vision of the afterlife as well. To the ancient Hebrew, death was not permanent but temporary, like sleep. In fact, one of the clearest texts showing the Israelite view of the afterlife affirms this very thing. "There will be a time of distress such as has not happened from the beginning of nations until then. ... Multitudes who sleep in the dust of the earth will awake: some to everlasting life, others to shame and everlasting contempt. Those who are wise will shine like the brightness of the heavens, and those who lead many to righteousness, like the stars for ever and ever" (Daniel 12:1-3). Death is the sleep of night, followed by the awakening of resurrection, at which time the judgment will occur and the afterlife (or after-death, for some) will commence. This use of night/darkness contrasted with the coming day/light as metaphors for death and resurrection is central throughout each stanza of the poem and finds its climax in the final line, "...when tomorrow comes!" Death is the night, the chain, the barricade, the distant drums. In the future, at dawn, comes judgment, and after that, the world beyond the barricade ... paradise.
All this brings us to the central theme of the poem, the fundamental question that the author asks the listener. Do you see the world beyond the barricade, or have you shut your eyes? When the people sing, they are singing of their lostness in the night and their hope for a new day. Do you hear them sing, or are your ears stopped up? And most directly, will you join in God's crusade on behalf of justice for the poor and oppressed, not only for tomorrow, but for today? Or will you, like the general populace of Paris, do nothing? The drums are beating. Judgment is coming. And when it comes, will you stand or fall?
This is the message of the song. But if you will indulge me for just a moment longer, I want to press the issue a little further -- further than is explicitly expressed in the poem, because the central question of the song begs a deeper question still. Finally, what actually makes the difference between those who pass the judgment, and those who fail? I believe the song hints at the answer, but we must look back to the Hebrew writings to see it fully. In the Garden of Eden story, death is the penalty for sin, and eternal life is only gained by eating the fruit of a certain tree, the Tree of Life. However, God evicted humankind from paradise and placed the cherubim at the entrance to the Garden of Eden. Now often, the images conjured up in our minds are one or two large flaming angels, wielding longswords and looking fierce, ready to cut down anyone who attempts to re-enter paradise. But I do not believe this is the proper conception from the Hebrew text. And the key lies in the flame imagery, not just highlighted in the song but developed in the ancient writings as well. Here is my translation of the verse in Hebrew:
"And [God] made to dwell in front of the Garden of Eden the cherubim and the flame of the sword that goes back and forth, to keep the way to the Tree of Life" (Gen. 3:24).
Now, these are my personal opinions only, but I believe the purpose of the cherubim, the flame, and the sword is NOT to prevent humankind from eating from the Tree of Life. That objective was already achieved by sending humankind out from paradise. The objective of the cherubim, the flame, and the sword is to ensure that a way remains for people still to eat from the tree and live forever in spite of the punishment of death that has already come to all humanity. In other words, God has provided a way to escape the punishment -- not to avoid death, but rather to pass through death and come out the other side -- just as Noah and his family came out the other side of the flood, and the Israelites came out the other side of the Red Sea. If we understand the story of the Garden of Eden in this way, this draws our attention as the reader to these objects in the story: the cherubim, the flame, and the two-edged sword. [Because of the grammatical construction, it's difficult to tell from the Hebrew text whether the flame and the sword are different objects or the same object.] I will not address the cherubim here because it would take too long to explain. The flame imagery, in the context of the Hebrew writings, seems to speak of God; that is, that God Himself keeps the way to the Tree of Life, so one must pass through Him in order to live forever. This much is not difficult to understand. But what about the sword?
For the answer, let us turn to the book of Revelation, which expounds much imagery from the early Genesis texts. When St. John sees the vision of the risen Jesus on the Isle of Patmos, he writes, "In his right hand [Jesus] held seven stars, and coming out of his mouth was a sharp, two-edged sword. His face was like the sun shining in all its brilliance" (Rev. 1:16). And just a little bit later Jesus says, "Whoever has ears to hear, let him hear what the Spirit says to the churches. To the one who is victorious, I will give the right to eat from the tree of life, which is in the paradise of God." I believe this refers to the ancient Tree of Life in the Garden of Eden story, just like the tree in the Eternal City mentioned in Revelation 22 also refers to the same Tree of Life.
Jesus of Nazareth keeps the way to the Tree of Life. And the message of the Hebrew writings, as developed by the later Jewish writers who came to embrace Jesus as LORD, is that He is the difference between those who stand or fall at the final judgment. If you claim Jesus, you will forever live. If you do not claim Him, you will forever die. The hope of the poor, and of all humanity, is with Jesus. He is the Flame That Never Dies.
posted by Joel @ 8:35 AM
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