Papist Poetry (pretty poor)
One sure warning that you are about to hear a really bad song is when the singer announces, “This is a song the Lord gave me.” At that point, you should plug your ears, and probably hold your nose, as well.
A couple weeks ago, Calvin’s comments on John 2:4 provoked a discussion in which I learned something I hadn’t known about Roman Catholic Mariology: apparently, Mary is the “New Eve.” Of course we know that Christ is the “last Adam” (1 Corinthians 15:45), but I had never heard any mention of another Eve. Turns out it’s because there isn’t any. What should have immediately occurred to me, but didn’t, is that there couldn’t be a second Eve because Christ already has a bride (Ephesians 5:22–27), chosen before the foundation of the world (Ephesians 1:4).
Well, the gentleman who was schooling me on this mysteriously dropped out of the conversation, so I never really got a satisfactory explanation. While I was waiting to see if he would return, my mind began wandering through the maze of papist Mariology, and I began to wax poetic. Those who remember my previous poetic works, including a contribution to contemporary worship music and a collection of cheese couplets, may want to go elsewhere at this point. Anyway, considering all that the Bible says about Mary, and adding to that all that Rome has said . . .
“This is a song the Lord gave me.”
Not Quite the Magnificat (tune and inspiration)
A couple thousand years ago, I was a Jewish lass
A strange thing happened to me (pardon me if this sounds crass)
I was impregnated by the Spirit of the Lord
And had a holy baby who was very much adored
This baby was the son of God and made me very proud
He was so good that some folks claim he never cried out loud
And then some guys in funny hats invented theories odd
Among them being that I am the very mother of God
So now I am God’s mother and the mother of his son
But I’ll reveal a stranger fact before my song is done
My baby was the second Adam, I, the second Eve
Which made me my son’s wife, a thing I hardly can believe
Now if I am God’s mother, Jesus then is my grandson
I know that is a weird thought, but it’s not the weirdest one
I’ve come to a conclusion that is sticking in my craw
If I am Jesus’ wife, then I’m my granddaughter-in-law
So . . .
I’m my own grandma, I’m my own grandma
It sounds funny, I know, but Rome says it is so
Oh, I’m my own grandma!