Scot McKnight is in fine form, as ever — this time he’s extolling the virtues of the fountain pen and following up with tips on purchasing your first fountain pen. He offers environmental reasons as well as classical and traditional ones for using a fountain pen rather than a Bic… not to mention nostalgic ones: “Think the Egyptian Nile and the old papyrus — fountain pen; think of Athanasius or Gregory of Nyssa — fountain pen; think of Luther — fountain pen; think of Calvin (if you must) — fountain pen. Think Menno Simons — fountain pen.”

I remember a few years when I was in school that it was fashionable to use a fountain pen, and many of us grade-school kids did so, despite the fact we may arguably have been too young to appreciate them. I remember a lot of blue ink splotches in the process. A few years back, I once again fell into the habit of using a fountain pen almost exclusively… it was an inexpensive Schaeffer or Cross if I recall correctly. I did finally give up on cartridge-type ink refills and move toward a refillable bladder for the pen… which then fairly regularly “took a drink from a bottle of Quink.” It’s been a few years since I used my fountain pen… a confluence of events took place that left it sitting in a drawer in my study. I became more digitally-inclined, emptied my current bottle of ink, and found a certain type of ball-point pen I didn’t hate (i.e., it wasn’t a Bic). I had wanted to upgrade to a nicer pen, maybe an inexpensive Waterman… I just never did.

I am suddenly somewhat inspired to take up my fountain pen once more… and in the interest of inspiring others to do so, I offer a personal reason in addition to those that Scot presents. For me, a fountain pen reminds me that all the ink in the world flowing over its nib will never explain the vastness of the mysteries of God. The fountain pen reminds me that there are no depths whatsoever to which I could sink that God’s love cannot find me and lift me out. I don’t necessarily dwell on these every time I lift the pen, but if I hold that pen and reflect, these are the thoughts that will inevitably come to mind. Maybe you haven’t made the connection yet; they have to do with a piece of music that all through my charismatic days I told people was the greatest worship song ever written… I persisted in this assertion despite the blank looks that met me in response.

Rabbi Mayer, son of a cantor in the city of Worms, Germany, wrote a poem in 1096 called “Hadamut.” The poem was an acrostic with 90 couplets, including these lines:

Were the sky of parchment made,
A quill each reed, each twig and blade,
Could we with ink the oceans fill,
Were every man a scribe of skill,
The marvelous story,
Of God’s great glory
Would still remain untold;
For He, most high
The earth and sky
Created alone of old.

These lines have since been trans­lat­ed in­ many different languages… and as Scot would point out, he wrote them with a fountain pen.

More than 900 years later, an adaptation of these lines was found penciled on the wall of an insane asylum after the death of the room’s occupant. Inscribed there apparently in moments of sanity were the words:

Could we with ink the ocean fill,
And were the skies of parchment made,
Were every stalk on earth a quill,
And every man a scribe by trade,
To write the love of God above
Would drain the ocean dry;
Nor could the scroll contain the whole,
Tho stretched from sky to sky.

Frederick M. Lehman tells of the day in 1917 when he added to these lines to create a well-known hymn: “One day, during short intervals of inattention to our work, we picked up a scrap of paper and, seated upon an empty lemon box pushed against the wall, with a stub pencil, added the (first) two stanzas and chorus of the song.” The music, also composed by Frederick M. Lehman, was arranged by his daughter, Claudia L. Mays.

The love of God is greater far than tongue or pen can ever tell;
It goes beyond the highest star, and reaches to the lowest hell.
The guilty pair, bowed down with care. God gave his Son to win;
His erring child He reconciled, and pardoned from this sin.

O love of God how rich and pure! how measureless and strong!
It shall forever more endure. The saint’s and angels song!

When years of time shall pass away, and earthly thrones and kingdoms fall,
When men who here refuse to pray, On rocks and hills and mountains call,
God’s love so sure shall still endure, All measureless and strong;
Redeeming grace to Adam’s race The saint’s and angels song.

Could we with ink the ocean fill, And were the skies of parchment made,
Were every stalk on earth a quill, And every man a scribe by trade,
To write the love of God above Would drain the ocean dry;
Nor could the scroll contain the whole, Tho stretched from sky to sky.

O love of God how rich and pure! how measureless and strong!
It shall forever more endure. The saint’s and angels song!

(via-1 and via-2)