|
A curious thing happened to me between Christmas and New Year’s Eve: My nephew in Edmonton drew my attention to an LP that recently came into his possession called When in Our Music God is Glorified: A Recording of Congregational Singing. The back of the record sleeve lists ICS as one of its two institutional sponsors. Upon seeing this connection, my nephew asked me if I knew anything about the project. I had to confess I did not, as it predates my institutional memory (I first came to ICS in 1992 as a master’s student, and after making a few inquiries my best guess is that this recording was made in the early to mid 1980s).
The album jacket says that the record was directed by Bert Polman, a hymnologist then working at Ontario Bible College. A quick Google search revealed that he would later teach at Redeemer University and then Calvin University, where he served as the Chair of the Music Department until 2013 when his life was tragically cut short by cancer.
Now fully absorbed in this detective story, I next searched for Bert Polman’s name in ICS’s Institutional Repository and was greeted with three hits in the digitized archive of ICS’s Perspective magazine. One article, from 1976 (penned by none other than Lambert Zuidervaart when he was still an ICS student or ‘Junior Member’), reports on a talk Polman delivered as part of ICS’s Discovery lecture series called “Celebrating the Word-and-Sacrament.” In the article, Zuidervaart relays Polman’s conviction that the elements of Christian worship must be rooted in “an historical appreciation of Christian traditions.” Such appreciation, argues Polman, “reveals both that the Word and the Sacraments must enjoy a strong balance in our public celebrations, and that the Reformational principle, ‘Ecclesia reformata semper reformanda est’ means the Spirit makes all things new, not all new things.”
This last phrase gave me pause, spurring me to think more about the distinction Polman here makes between renewal and novelty. What is the difference, I wondered, between ‘making all things new’ (Revelation 21:5) and ‘making all new things’? My first thought turned to the act of repairing a broken yet cherished possession, or maybe a neglected and dishevelled thrift store find in which we nevertheless spy good potential, so that it comes out ‘just like new’. The converse attitude, all too common in our consumer-industrial age, would be to dispose of the mounting pile of busted and unrepairable stuff we own (often designed with ‘built-in obsolescence’) and replace it with entirely new things, starting the vicious cycle all over again.
Revelation 21, however, speaks of a Maker who so cherishes the fruits of that making that he throws nothing away, and instead busies himself lovingly restoring all that has been broken, desiring nothing more than to bring out the potential for blessing housed within every good thing he created.
Yet, just as I start to understand Polman’s distinction in this way, I am also struck by the fact that one of the creatures God made, we humans, are uniquely capable of inaugurating new projects and initiating unanticipated trajectories, sometimes for good and very often for ill. Indeed, not only are we capable of making new things, but we are also called several times in the Psalms and even once in Isaiah to “sing a new song” and not simply to “make an old song new.”
The Bible’s long-arc story of God making the broken world new and good again tells us that our part in addressing the wounds of a groaning creation will often require innovation, the imaginative development of new responses that somehow yet remain faithful to God’s original promise of renewal. God thus calls us to harness our imagination and creativity, our capacity for inaugurating new and surprising developments and trajectories, to this task.
For remember, in “making all things new” God is also “about to do a new thing” (Isaiah 43:19).
| 
