There is a fountain filled with blood,
Drawn from Emmanuel’s veins,
And sinners plunged beneath that flood
Lose all their guilty stains
I can play that hymn on the piano. In fact, it’s one of the few i can confidently play in public. I like the poetry. But once you really listen to it and visualize its imagery, i have to admit, it’s not pleasant. A pool of blood? And sinners (read: me) submerged in that red pool? Hmmm…. And the paradox: the blood does not stain, it cleanses. And what a stain it removes! Tide has never claimed to rid us of “guilty stains”.
What I’d give to once again sing and play that hymn with the knowing tears of that boy just learning the keyboard…and just learning how in need he is of that pool of blood. But the years of not playing on a piano have made the fingers stiff. The years of hiding from God have taken their toll on the heart. Stains all over. The tears seldom flow now. The song is still familiar. I guess the need for a dip in that flood of blood has never been greater than now.
