Hymn of the Week: Together We Serve
Glory to God: 767

Text and Music Daniel Charles Damon 1996

1 Together we serve,
united by love,
inviting God's world to the glorious feast.
We work and we pray
through sorrow and joy,
extending God's love to the last and the least.

2 We seek to become
a beacon of hope,
a lamp for the heart and a light for the feet.
We learn, year by year,
to let love shine through
until we see Christ in each person we meet.

3 We welcome the scarred,
the wealthy, the poor,
the busy, the lonely, and all who need care.
We offer a home
to those who will come,
our hands quick to help, our hearts ready to dare.

4 Together, by grace,
we witness and work,
remembering Jesus, in whom we grow strong.
Together we serve
in Spirit and truth,
remembering love is the strength of our song.

In July of 2016, The Hymn Society in the United States and Canada bestowed its highest honor on the Rev. Daniel Charles Damon by naming him a Fellow. Dan has served as the pastor at First United Methodist Church of Point Richmond in Richmond, California, since 1995. Originally from Rapid City, South Dakota, Dan earned a Bachelor of Music Education degree at Greenville College, a Free Methodist institution in Greenville, Illinois, and he later earned a Master of Divinity from the Pacific School of Religion, Berkley, California. In addition to pastoring a congregation, Dan serves as the Associate Editor of Hymnody for Hope Publishing Company, and sometimes you might catch him playing jazz in the San Francisco Bay area or teaching courses at the Center for the Arts, Religion, and Education in Berkley.

As an internationally published author of hymn tunes and texts, Dan has combined his unique gifts as both poet and composer on over 50 published hymns. Furthermore, he has translations in Vietnamese, Portuguese, Japanese, and Shona, and in 2007 he worked with Patrick Matsikenyiri to edit Njalo, A Collection of 16 Hymns in the African Tradition. The Canterbury

Dictionary of Hymnology features two articles by Dan—one on social gospel hymnody in the USA and the other on his greatest passion, jazz, and congregational song.

“Together We Serve” was commissioned for the 1997 centennial celebration of First Presbyterian Church in San Anselmo, California. Carl Daw notes that there is no mention of an actual church building in this hymn—for the church “is not the building but the people.” Daw further notes that many of the ideas in this hymn will seem familiar because “they have been true of congregations from the very earliest of days, as Ephesians 4:11-16 shows. They are both a celebration and a reminder of what the church is called to be.”

The first stanza is a celebration of congregational life and mission. Dan uses two short phrases followed by a long phrase (55.11 D) to establish the meter and uses three-syllable words (together, united, inviting, glorious, extending) to capture the flow of the waltzing tune. The second stanza is flooded with light imagery—“beacon of hope,” “lamp for the heart,” “light for the feet,” and “let love shine through.” The third stanza emphasizes Dan’s love of social justice and reminds us that the church welcomes all—wealthy and poor, busy and lonely, the scarred, and all those who need care. The final stanza is permeated again by togetherness as it enumerates for the church the “sources of energy”—grace, remembering Jesus, and service in Spirit and truth.

The hymn writing process is a new fascination for me. When I contacted Dan about the background information regarding this composition, I shared with him my affinity for this particular hymn and that I had even made an arrangement of it for my choirs. Dan was kind enough to send his sketches. Brian Wren told him “it takes ’many yellow sheets’ to arrive a good hymn text.” It was fascinating to see the four pages of ideas that were eventually crafted, revised, and reorganized—always with help from other writers. Dan describes this as his most “churchy” hymn and mentions that it has become his most popular. Originally in three stanzas, the Presbyterians in San Anselmo asked him to “put a little Jesus in it” and Dan believes it became a “stronger hymn for that extra effort.” For those familiar with the Pacific coast, Dan began this text at a retreat center (Asilomar) in Pacific Grove while accompanying Camp Farthest Out.

Finally, Dan offers this advice for all hymn writers: “Be sure to put your entire message in stanza one. There may not be time to sing the whole hymn.” This was certainly the case when Dan was called on to lead this hymn for General Conference last May and it was cut short!

Since the text and the melody were composed for one another, be sure to let the music flow with a strong emphasis on the downbeat. If you are able to slow down the 3rd stanza and if you have a skilled accompanist, embrace Dan’s improvisational leanings and explore the text with some alternate harmonies. The final stanza lends itself to an added coda by repeating the final phrase, “remembering love is the strength of our song.”

SOURCES
Carl P. Daw, Jr., Glory to God: A Companion, Louisville, Kentucky: Westminster John Knox Press, 2016, pp. 730-731.

Press Release – The Hymn Society in the United States and Canada: http://www.thehymnsociety.org/#!dan-damon---fellow/c1c9r Hymnary.org — https://www.hymnary.org/person/Damon_DC?tab=tunes

Personal Correspondence with Dan Damon

Hymn of the Week: Savior, Like a Shepherd Lead Us
Glory to God: 187

Text Thrupp’s Hymns for the Young 1836
Music William Bradbury 1859

Savior, like a shepherd lead us,
Much we need your tender care;
In your pleasant pastures feed us,
For our use your folds prepare:
Blessèd Jesus, blessèd Jesus,
You have bought us, we are yours;
Blessèd Jesus, blessèd Jesus,
You have bought us, we are yours.

We are yours, in love befriend us,
Be the guardian of our way;
Keep your flock, from sin defend us,
Seek us when we go astray:
Blessèd Jesus, blessèd Jesus,
Hear, O hear your children when we pray;
Blessèd Jesus, blessèd Jesus,
Hear, O hear your children when we pray.

You have promised to receive us,
Poor and sinful though we be;
You have mercy to relieve us,
Grace to cleanse, and pow'r to free:
Blessèd Jesus, blessèd Jesus,
Early let us turn to you;
Blessèd Jesus, blessèd Jesus,
Early let us turn to you.

Early let us seek your favor,
Early let us do your will;
Blessed Lord and only Savior,
With your love our spirits fill:
Blessèd Jesus, blessèd Jesus,
You have loved us, love us still;
Blessèd Jesus, blessèd Jesus,
You have loved us, love us still.

To celebrate Good Shepherd Sunday here is an old beloved hymn on the 23rd Psalm

“Savior, Like a Shepherd Lead Us,” attributed to Englishwoman Dorothy A. Thrupp (1779-1847), is found in almost every Christian hymnal. According to the hymnology website, www.hymnary.org, “Savior, Like a Shepherd Lead Us” appears in 1005 hymnals. It is one hymn that most church members can recognize across denominational lines. What may surprise most churchgoers to know, however, is that for such a well-known and loved hymn of the Christian faith, we know little about how it was written or who the true author was. It's past aside, however, we see that whoever penned these words had a deeply theological message to share.

The mystery of the authorship of the words goes back to the 1830s when the hymn made its first appearances in Thrupp’s Hymns for the Young (c. 1830) and the Fourth Edition in 1836, but without attribution. Rev. William Carus Wilson published a magazine titled The Children’s Friend (June 1838) and ascribed the poem to “Lyte,” possibly Henry Francis Lyte (1793-1847). British hymnologist J. R. Watson notes, “The authorship remains in doubt; all that can be added is that a stylistic analysis of the vocabulary, rhythm, and content would suggest that Thrupp, rather than Henry Francis Lyte, was the author” (Canterbury Dictionary).

The penned words were directly applied to children, and the anonymous writer obviously meant to use this four-stanza hymn for teaching. It was more than twenty years later that the tune we presently know was composed by the American musician William Bradbury (1816-1868). His tune, named after himself,

has most often been associated with this text, except in the case of the Episcopalian tradition that paired the text with the tune SICILIAN MARINERS. When Bradbury composed this tune, however, he modified the original words meant for children and broadened the meaning to include all of the congregation. Then, with some modernizing of the language, the text was standardized as it appears today. Since about 1830, the hymn has remained largely untouched. In fact, when the Methodist Book of Hymns shortened the refrain in 1966, the publisher received so many complaints, that the full Bradbury version was put back into The United Methodist Hymnal (1989).

One has to wonder why this hymn has been so successful for nearly two hundred years. The most likely answer is found in the theology of the hymn. Since the focus of the original composition was on young children, Thrupp would have wanted to encapsulate the essence and message of a caring Christ who loves all his children. In the first stanza, we see Christ portrayed as a shepherd offering care and guidance to his flock as well as preparing for service and Christian life. This is followed by an acknowledgment that we are Christ’s. Thrupp alludes to Psalm 23 – “pleasant pastures” – and draws upon the image of Christ as the Good Shepherd (John 10:1-18).

Likewise, the second stanza picks up with the idea of possession by Christ and the continued picture of Christ as the Good Shepherd. Now, however, the author shows that we are not only possessed by Christ, but we are also in fellowship with Christ. Christ is our defender and guide, and he will hear us when we pray to him and follow in his footsteps. The author also alludes to the lost sheep (Matthew 18:12-14; Luke 15:3-7), especially in the phrase, “seek us when we go astray.”

The third stanza offers a wonderful picture of the salvation message of Christ—that no one is beyond the reach of God’s love and there is no sin too great to keep us separated from God. Underlying this message is an understanding of original sin, the inherent sinful nature of all of God’s children: “Thou hast promised to receive us,/poor and sinful though we be. . .” Although the concept of original sin finds its roots in St. Augustine (354-430), the sixteenth-century reformers Martin Luther and John Calvin assured the continuation of this theological concept among Protestants. The refrain then acknowledges “We will early turn to Thee,” providing an effective segue into the final stanza – a poetic device known as anadiplosis.

Stanza four reminds us that the original focus of the hymn was on children–with references to seeking Christ early in life: “Early let us seek thy favor;/early let us do thy will. . .”. Thrupp advocated for an early and honest following of Christ that leads us to a place of service and following God’s will. There is a plea for the love of God to be shown through us as the body of Christ and that God’s love will always be present, as he has always loved us.

The picture we get from this hymn, and the reason it has been such a defining song of the church, lies in the fact that it presents the fuller theology of Christian life in one song. This picture of the saving love and grace of God, the salvation message of God, God’s fellowship with us, and the continuing service to God gives us a broader perspective of what the Christian life should be. Thrupp attempted to make the hymn accessible to children, and Bradbury presented it in a way that is applicable to every Christian. Although this song may have had some vague beginnings, it has a certain future in the church because of its message of hope, love, salvation, and Christian living.

FOR FURTHER READING:

"Dorothea Ann Thrupp." Canterbury Dictionary of Hymnology. Accessed February 22, 2017. https://hymnology.hymnsam.co.uk/d/dorothea-ann-thrupp

Hymn of the Week: Lead On, O King Eternal!
Glory to God: 269

Text Ernest Shurtleff, 1888
Music Henry Thomas Smart 1835

Lead on, O King eternal,
the day of march has come;
henceforth in fields of conquest
your tents will be our home.
Through days of preparation
your grace has made us strong;
and now, O King eternal,
we lift our battle song.

Lead on, O King eternal,
till sin's fierce war shall cease,
and holiness shall whisper
the sweet amen of peace.
For not with swords' loud clashing
or roll of stirring drums
with deeds of love and mercy
the heavenly kingdom comes.

Lead on, O King eternal;
we follow, not with fears,
for gladness breaks like morning
where'er your face appears.
Your cross is lifted o'er us,
we journey in its light;
the crown awaits the conquest;
lead on, O God of might.

With the encouragement of his fellow graduating classmates, Ernest W. Shurtleff (Boston, MA, 1862; d. Paris, France, 1917) wrote this text in 1887 for Andover Theological Seminary's commencement ceremonies. Winning immediate acclaim, the text was published in Shurtleff's Hymns of the Faith that same year. Since that publication, it has appeared in many American hymnals.

Graduation is one milestone on our life's journey, a road sign that points to the future as much as it marks the end of formal education. Consequently, "Lead On, O King Eternal" is a battle call to go forward in Christian service. Initially laced with war imagery, the text moves on to biblical imagery-"deeds of love and mercy"-and concludes with a note of eschatological hope. This message is as urgent today as it was a hundred years ago.

Before studying at Andover, Shurtleff attended Harvard University. He served Congregational churches in Ventura, California; Old Plymouth, Massachusetts; and Minneapolis, Minnesota, before moving to Europe. In 1905 he established the American Church in Frankfurt, and in 1906 he moved to Paris, where he was involved in student ministry at the Academy Vitti. During World War I, he and his wife were active in refugee relief work in Paris. Shurtleff wrote a number of books, including Poems (1883), Easter Gleams (1885), Song of Hope (1886), and Song on the Waters (1913).

Liturgical Use: A fine recessional hymn; appropriate for many other times of worship, including ordination/ commissioning, church education graduations, and occasions that mark the beginning of a church program.

In his book, The Gospel in Hymns, Albert Bailey describes very eloquently the function of this hymn when he writes, “It is the eager cry of the knight who has been kneeling through the hours of darkness in vigil at the altar where his sword and armor are being impregnated with the power of heaven, and who now with the dawn rises to receive the accolade of his King and goes forth to combat.” We probably don’t think about our faith like this too often. Quite frankly, we most likely don’t know how to make sense of this. How do we reconcile between the peaceful Christ and the seemingly war-driven God of the Old Testament? How can we claim to desire a world of peace when we talk in such violent language? These are questions Christians around the world wrestle with. But we shouldn’t stay away from such language because we don’t fully understand it. Part of our task is to remember that language is just that - only words. We talk in imagery. When we say we are putting on the armor of God, we know that we are clothing ourselves with love, righteousness, and good deeds. When we invoke the God of conquest, we know we are asking God to use us in a fight against spiritual evils, not physical. Perhaps the second verse of this hymn says it best: “For not with sword’s loud clashing / or roll of stirring drums / with deeds of love and mercy / the heavenly kingdom comes.”

Enjoy this stirring rendition by Diane Bish!

Hymn of the Week: I Danced in the Morning
Glory to God: 157

Text Sydney Carter 1963
Music Simple Gifts, Quaker Folk Song

I danced in the morning when the world was begun,
And I danced in the moon and the stars and the sun,
And I came down from heaven and I danced on the earth,
At Bethlehem I had my birth.

"Dance, then, wherever you may be;
I am the Lord of the Dance," said he.
"I'll lead you all wherever you may be,
I will lead you all in the Dance," said he.

I danced for the scribe and the Pharisee,
But they would not dance and they wouldn't follow me;
I danced for the fishermen, for James and for John;
They came with me and the dance went on. 

"Dance, then, wherever you may be;
I am the Lord of the Dance," said he.
"I'll lead you all wherever you may be,
I will lead you all in the Dance," said he.

I danced on the Sabbath and I cured the lame,
The holy people, they said it was a shame;
They whipped and they stripped and they hung me high,
And they left me there on a cross to die.

"Dance, then, wherever you may be;
I am the Lord of the Dance," said he.
"I'll lead you all wherever you may be,
I will lead you all in the Dance," said he.

I danced on a Friday when the sky turned black;
It's hard to dance with the devil on your back;
They buried my body and they thought I'd gone,
But I am the dance and I still go on. 

"Dance, then, wherever you may be;
I am the Lord of the Dance," said he.
"I'll lead you all wherever you may be,
I will lead you all in the Dance," said he.

They cut me down and I leapt up high,
I am the life that'll never, never die,
I'll live in you if you'll live in me;
"I am the Lord of the Dance," said he. 

"Dance, then, wherever you may be;
I am the Lord of the Dance," said he.
"I'll lead you all wherever you may be,
I will lead you all in the Dance," said he.

Todays Devotion

Please enjoy today’s devotion, we first enjoyed this devotion and hymn on April 25, 2022. Our handbell choir will be playing this beautiful piece this week. It feels appropriate to enjoy it once again.

Lord of the Dance

Upon his death on March 13, 2004, at the age of 88, Sydney Bertram Carter’s obituary in the London Telegraph began with the bold assertion, “Lord of the Dance” was “the most celebrated religious song of the 20th century.” This statement deserves further examination.
Upon his death on March 13, 2004, at the age of 88, Sydney Bertram Carter’s obituary in the London Telegraph began with the bold assertion, “Lord of the Dance” was “the most celebrated religious song of the 20th century.” This statement deserves further examination.

“Lord of the Dance” (1962) captured the spirit of the 1960s protest movement in the United States. It became a sacred equivalent for songs by Pete Seeger in the late 1950s, including “Where have all the flowers gone” and “To everything turn” (later made even more popular by Peter, Paul, and Mary), as well as Bob Dylan’s “Blowin’ in the wind” (1962). While the direct – even, for some, sacrilegious – language accompanied by the folk acoustic guitar bordered on heresy for some; for others, these songs were a breath of fresh air. “Lord of the Dance” brought this sound and spirit into the church, especially in services designed to reach young people.

Sydney Bertram Carter

Born in 1915, Carter was educated at Oxford, and he taught high school in the 1940s. Sympathizing with the Quakers, he served in an ambulance unit with the Society of Friends during World War II. Carter began composing songs in the 1950s and 1960s, many of which remain very popular in the schools of Great Britain to this day.

Called a “carol” by Carter, “Lord of the Dance” was not the first song on this theme. “Tomorrow will be my dancing day,” a seventeenth-century English carol, provided an obvious model for this famous hymn. An earlier medieval carol also explored the allegory of the dance as a metaphor for humanity’s relationship with Christ. Carter adapted a melody from the Shaker dance tune Simple Gifts. The first four stanzas appeared in the Student Christian Congress Hymns (1963), and the five-stanza version in 9 Songs or Ballads (1964). Carter’s Green Print for Song (1974) suggests that he wrote the words first and then adapted the tune of Simple Gifts to the text later. Simple Gifts has been identified as a quintessential American folk tune by composer Aaron Copeland (1900-1990), who quoted the tune as the climax of his famous symphonic work Appalachian Spring (1944).

A favorite of youth groups in the 1960s and 1970s, “Lord of the Dance” spread far beyond the Christian community, partially because the song never mentions Jesus or Christ by name. Its most famous use beyond the church is as a “Celtic” dance for Michael Flatley’s world-famous show, Lord of the Dance. The origins of the tune are not Celtic, however, but thoroughly American.

Always the iconoclast, Carter’s theological perspective may not pass all tests of orthodoxy. The opening lines of this first-person account of Christ’s life have been thought by some to “contain a hint of paganism which, mixed with Christianity, makes it attractive to those of ambiguous religious beliefs or none at all.” While inspired by the life of Jesus, Carter implied that the Hindu God Shiva as Nataraja (Shiva’s dancing pose), a statue that sat on his desk, also played a role in the song’s conception. The choice of an adapted Shaker tune for the melody – sometimes called the “Shaking Quakers” who were known for their vigorous dancing during their rituals – rounds out the dance theme. Carter acknowledged the theological contradictions but never attempted to resolve them.

Carter Notes:

“I see Christ as the incarnation of the piper who is calling us. He dances that shape and pattern which is at the heart of our reality. By Christ I mean not only Jesus; in other times and places, other planets, there may be other Lords of the Dance. But Jesus is the one I know of first and best. I sing of the dancing pattern in the life and words of Jesus.” For the complete text, see http://celtic-lyrics.com/lyrics/309.html (a misnomer since neither the lyrics nor the tune are “Celtic”). The second stanza mentions that the “scribes and Pharisees” would not join in with the dance, but the “fishermen, . . . James and John” did continue the dance with the Dancer. The third stanza has been viewed by some as anti-Semitic – “the holy people said it was a shame” – leading to Christ’s crucifixion.

The fourth stanza has one of those turns of phrases that are typical of many folk-based songs – “it’s hard to dance with the devil on your back” – a bit shocking for those who have grown up with “Abide with me,” yet offers a different perspective on this central narrative in the Christian experience. The final stanza captures the untainted joy of the Resurrection when the dance is complete and all are invited – “I’ll live in you if you live in me.”

Carter placed the primary emphasis on faith rather than creeds or theology. He asserts: “Faith is more basic than language or theology.” Later, he continues this idea: “Scriptures and creeds may come to seem incredible, but faith will still go dancing on.”

Welsh Hymnologist Alan Luff

writes perceptively, “In his notes on his songs Carter insisted that they are to be seen in a state of coming to be, and, although some have now been printed many times in books, they need always to be approached as ready to be remade. He abhorred finality and called his book Green Print for Song, not ‘Blue print’ because a blueprint was a final draft. He wrote his own tunes but did not claim to be a musician. He has been fortunate in his arrangers, but none of their versions should be thought of as authentic or final.”

Alzheimer’s disease began to take a toll on Carter by 1999. He was lovingly cared for by his second wife Leela Nair until his death. A friend, Rabbi Lionel Blue, commented after a visit, “our only contact is a thin thread of memory and his songs. I start singing them, and he joyfully joins in—and I leave him as he continues singing.”

Resources:

C. Michael Hawn is a University Distinguished Professor of Church Music, Perkins School of Theology, SMU.

A special thank you to Linda Habig for providing her amazing flute for this week’s Hymn of the Week!

Hymn of the Week: Just As I Am, Without One Plea
Glory to God: #422

The devotion has been reprinted with permission of the author, James C. Howell, from his book entitled: Unrevealed Until Its Season: a Lenten Journey with Hymns.

Published by Upper Room Books 2021.

The book can be found here: https://upperroombooks.com/

Wonderful Words of Life
Text Arthur P Bliss 1874

Sing them over again to me,
Wonderful words of life;
Let me more of their beauty see,
Wonderful words of life;
Words of life and beauty
Teach me faith and duty.

Refrain:
Beautiful words, wonderful words,
Wonderful words of life;
Beautiful words, wonderful words,
Wonderful words of life.

Christ, the blessed one, gives to all
Wonderful words of life;
Sinner, list to the loving call,
Wonderful words of life;
All so freely given,
Wooing us to heaven. [Refrain]

Sweetly echo the gospel call,
Wonderful words of life;
Offer pardon and peace to all,
Wonderful words of life;
Jesus, only Savior,
Sanctify forever. [Refrain]


Wonderful Words
In 1874, a ‘singing evangelist” named Philip Bliss wrote a sunny, chipper hymn, “Wonderful Words of Life,” and set it to a cheerful tune with kids in mind.

These simple words and music were written to be sung by children. The purpose of this song is to promote in the child a love and appreciation of the scriptures. It speaks to and for the child in all of us. (see footnote)

Yet the child in all of us has ready access to the actual words of Jesus. It’s one thing to sing about them; it’s another to hear them, grapple with them, absorb them, and then live into them. Jesus’ words usually are shockers, words that excavate the soul, diagnose unseen maladies, name what ails us, and catapult us out of our comfort zones into radical action for Jesus. When Mark Helprin spoke of the books that are “hard to read, that could devastate and remake one’s soul, and that when they are finished, had a kick like a mule,” he could have been describing Jesus’ “wonderful words of life.”
“Sing them over again to me.” Jesus spoke sternly to the devil. Jesus spoke tenderly to those others despised, and then he uttered words of woe to the pious who weaponized the scriptures and judged others. Jesus blessed the meek, declared anger and lust to be against the law, and dared us to love our enemies. Jesus’ wonderful words of life were spoken to people he wasn’t supposed to speak to at all: Samaritans, tax collectors, prostitutes, and people with leprosy. His dinner conversations were impolite toward hosts he might have thanked. He forgave his executioners without them even asking.
We dare not forget that so many of Jesus’ “wonderful words” were uttered in the very Temple precincts where, the day before, he had alarmed and appalled authorities by driving out the money changers. What courage. Instead of lying low for a while, Jesus walked into the teeth of peril, as if to make sure we’d listen. Jesus had a lot to say, more than two hundred verses even though he knew that those plotting to kill him were prowling in the crowds. (Matthew 21:23 – 25:46).
The Pharisees didn’t hear Jesus’ words as “wonderful words,” and so they strategized “to entangle him in his talk,” asking if it was lawful to pay taxes to Caesar: his ingenious reply left them stammering. Jesus’ words to God in Gethsemane were sheer agony, and on the cross he screamed his despairing God-forsakenness. “Sing them over again to me, wonderful words of life.” Then after Easter he spoke words of calming peace and asked Peter if he loved him in return.
Jesus’ stories and teaching turned the known world on its ear. Callicles’s complaint to Socrates describes equally well the power of Jesus’ words.
If you are serious and what you say is true, then surely the life of us mortals must be turned upside down and apparently, we are everywhere doing the opposite of what we should.

Do not lay up treasure on earth. The last will be first. He who would love his life will lose it. Not my will but your will be done. Sell all you have and give it to the poor. I have come to set father against son.
Our hymn says, “Let me more of their beauty see. . .words of life and beauty.” Instead of shivering or devising ways to dodge or explain away his words, perhaps we should ask to see their true beauty. For they are beautiful because they are the words of the only truly beautiful One. We try to do beautiful things for this beautiful One, and we become surprisingly but truly beautiful ourselves as we do.
Rabbi Jonathan Sacks notices how Moses insisted that the Israelites teach their children about the exodus from Egypt: “About to gain their freedom, the Israelites were told that they had to become a nation of educators.” Indeed, for Christianity and Judaism “freedom is won, not on the battlefield, not in the political arena, nor in the courts…but in human imagination and will. To defend the country, you need an army. But to defend a free society, you need schools.”
Jesus’ wonderful words take us free people to school. We absorb Jesus’ beautiful thoughts. And then we “sweetly echo the gospel call.” The child learns to talk by soaking in the parents’ talk. And the child then speaks inevitably as the parents have spoken, with their accents and emphases, their phrasing and expressions. Our words are to echo Jesus’ wonderful words. This doesn’t mean sugary sweet piety; Jesus never talked that way. Instead, we forgive, speak with the lonely, tell the truth, cry out in agony, and, above all, name mercy and hope as our beloved realities. Such words are “all so freely given, wooing us to heaven.”
Mark Helprin, Winter’s Tale (New York: Pocket Books, 1983), 211.
Plato, Gogias, 481c, trans. W.D. Woodhead, The Collected Dialogues of Plato, ed. Edith Hamilton and Huntington Cairns (Princeton: Princeton University Press, 1961) 265.
Jonathan Sacks, Covenant and Conversation: A Weekly Reading of the Jewish Bible, vol. 2, Exodus: The Book of Redemption (New Milford, CT: Maggid Books, 2010), 78.

Today’s video comes from the Buckeye quartet that actually grew up in my Dad’s neck of the woods, in Bellefontaine, Ohio.  The Mills Brothers.  They only sing two of the three verses, but you will love it!

If you have trouble viewing the video, please click HERE.

Hymn of the Week: Just As I Am, Without One Plea
Glory to God: #422

The devotion has been reprinted with permission of the author, James C. Howell, from his book entitled: Unrevealed Until Its Season: a Lenten Journey with Hymns.

Published by Upper Room Books 2021.

The book can be found here: https://upperroombooks.com/

For Everyone Born 
Text Shirley Erena Murray 1998
Music Brian Mann 2006

For everyone born, a place at the table,
for everyone born, clean water and bread,
a shelter, a space, a safe place for growing,
for everyone born, a star overhead,
     and God will delight when we are creators
     of justice and joy, compassion and peace:
     yes, God will delight when we are creators
     of justice, justice and joy!

For woman and man, a place at the table,
revising the roles, deciding the share,
with wisdom and grace, dividing the power,
for woman and man, a system that's fair,
     and God will delight when we are creators
     of justice and joy, compassion and peace:
     yes, God will delight when we are creators
     of justice, justice and joy!

For young and for old, a place at the table,
a voice to be heard, a part in the song,
the hands of a child in hands that are wrinkled,
for young and for old, the right to belong,
     and God will delight when we are creators
     of justice and joy, compassion and peace:
     yes, God will delight when we are creators
     of justice, justice and joy!

For just and unjust, a place at the table,
abuser, abused, with need to forgive,
in anger, in hurt, a mindset of mercy,
for just and unjust, a new way to live,
     and God will delight when we are creators
     of justice and joy, compassion and peace:
     yes, God will delight when we are creators
     of justice, justice and joy!

For everyone born, a place at the table,
to live without fear, and simply to be,
to work, to speak out, to witness and worship,
for everyone born, the right to be free,
     and God will delight when we are creators
     of justice and joy, compassion and peace:
     yes, God will delight when we are creators
     of justice, justice and joy!

Hymns extol God’s goodness and bind the individual’s soul to God. Hymns also have an impact on society, on us as people together, and on the church’s work out in the world. When the earliest Christians sang “Christ is Lord,” it was a protest against the Roman Empire’s claim that Caesar was lord. Slave spirituals were codes: “O Canaan, I am bound for Canaan” was biblical, but it was also a dream of escape to Canada! “We Shall Overcome” lifted sagging spirits during the Civil Rights movement. Even the revival of “God Bless America” after 9/11 revealed the power of a song to galvanize hope.

Given the disturbing debates within the churches over issues like same-gender marriage, race, or immigration, it’s not surprising that new music has emerged. In “All Are Welcome” we sing “Let us build a house where love can dwell and all can safely live, a place where saints and children tell how hearts learn to forgive. Here the love of Christ shall end divisions . . .All are welcome in this place.” It is never enough just to sing “All Are Welcome,” any more than it is to ask who might feel welcomed and why, and we feel restless ourselves until it really is all who are welcome.

Another lovely song achieving hymn status is “For Everyone Born.” The gospel isn’t just for some subset of humanity – those who are like us or politically correct or good patriots or straight. John Wesley sparked the Methodist revival by preaching “prevenient grace,” which is God’s loving and empowering regard for all who have accomplished just one thing: being born. The church’s task isn’t to pass judgment, condemn, or hunker down behind our secure walls. We dream of becoming a safe place for everyone. For that to happen, we have to get busy doing what Jesus told us to do: creating justice; discovering and spreading joy, and making peace instead of division. The hymn says this is God’s joy too! “God will delight when we are creators of justice and joy.”

“Everyone Born” is redundant, isn’t it? Everyone born would be . . .everyone. You, other readers of this book, others singing the hymn, and people who would never do either were once a microscopic blob in mom’s womb, dependent, fragile, a wonder. You were there before your mom was aware – but God knew. Psalm 139 probes the marvel of life in utero, the sheer miracle of being born, that mind-boggling transition from a dark, warm aquatic zone out into the chill air and bright lights. You’re born. Vulnerable. Asking only for tenderness and love.

This is why the Christmas story is what it is. God thought I want them to know me, to love me. Instead of coming down as a mighty warrior, God came as an infant, vulnerable, dependent, like everyone born. Jesus spoke mysteriously about being born again. That’s not an emotional vibe at a revival service. It’s the realization that we are like newborns: dependent for each breath, nourishment, and gentle handling, like everyone born. And so we sing and welcome and never rest until everyone born has what the hymn details: clean water, shelter, a safe place for growing, belonging, being heard, mercy – “a star overhead.”

Dorothy Day taught us Christian table manners. “Let’s all try to be poorer. My mother used to say, “Everyone take less, and there will be room for one more.” There was always room for one more at our table.” And Jesus reminded us to invite to our dinner parties not those who can invite us in return but rather the poor, maimed, lame, blind - which, if you think about it, really is everyone born! And if they don’t show up, we go out and urge them to come and join us. (see Luke 14: 7-14).

And the freedom the hymn invites us to at the end is interesting. We can’t be free until the other guy is free. Sure, those of us who live in America might feel free. But we are in bondage we aren’t even aware of. We miss the joy. We miss out on the richness of a shared life with others who have been born. We get stuck in society’s bog of anger and anxiety, isolation and trendiness.

The old saying is that you can never be happier than your unhappiest child. God wired the world so that we can never be free until others are free; we can never grow until others grow. God made us for connection, not to those like us but to those who are like God. And that is everyone born.

Jim Forest. Love is the Measure. A Biography of Dorothy Day, rev. ed. (Maryknoll, NY: Orbis Books, 1997), 135.

Hymn of the Week: Just As I Am, Without One Plea
Glory to God: #422

The devotion has been reprinted with permission of the author, James C. Howell, from his book entitled: Unrevealed Until Its Season: a Lenten Journey with Hymns.

Published by Upper Room Books 2021.

The book can be found here: https://upperroombooks.com/

Just As I Am, Without One Plea

Text Charlotte Eliot 1834
Music William Bradbury 1849
 

Just as I am, without one plea
but that thy blood was shed for me,
and that thou biddest me come to thee,
O Lamb of God, I come; I come!

Just as I am, though tossed about
with many a conflict, many a doubt,
fightings and fears within, without,
O Lamb of God, I come; I come!

Just as I am, thou wilt receive,
wilt welcome, pardon, cleanse, relieve;
because thy promise I believe,
O Lamb of God, I come; I come!

Just as I am, thy love unknown
has broken every barrier down;
now to be thine, yea, thine alone,
O Lamb of God, I come; I come!
 

To Rid My Soul of One Dark Blot
In one of the evangelist Tony Campolo’s funny set pieces, he would speak of a revival service where the pastor would issue an altar call, inviting people to come during the singing of “Just as I Am.”  Indeed, after a few stanzas, one of the brethren would come, “just as I am,” kneel and pray fervently -  and then when the service had ended he would head back home (as Tony put it), “just as he was.”
Is it that God accepts you “just the way you are”?  Or is God’s business to take the ramshackle you and convert you into something you should or could be?  Is the gospel about the recovery of the real you that has gotten caked over with phony stuff?  Is the conversion settling back (or forward) into the pure you, the child within, the image of God never fully expunged by the world, or the mess you’ve made of things?  Paul Tillich famously described being “struck by grace” like this:
A wave of light breaks into our darkness, and it is as though a voice were saying: “you are accepted…accepted by that which is greater than you…Do not try to do anything now; perhaps later you will do much …Simply accept the fact that you are accepted!”
“Just as I am without one plea, but that thy blood was shed for me.”  The theological theory of Atonement – the idea that Jesus died in my place – lurks behind this.  What can we make of this, especially during Lent?  The idea that God was really angry about human sin and vented that anger on his own son instead of on us is nonsensical and downright blasphemous if you think about it.  What a petty deity this would be to require blood vengeance.
Yet, that  Jesus’ blood was “shed for me” is the ultimate secret to Christianity.  It is the scandal of the Cross.  God became human, was pierced, and died – but it wasn’t simply a tragedy, the sad story of a good man who died wrongly.  His blood somehow was an expiation of our sin.  As Jesus bled on the cross, God’s love for all people was being poured out.  Mercy overflowed from his beautiful body to bring healing to people who didn’t understand weren’t all that holy and thought of God as their grand benefactor in the sky instead of as their brother in suffering and death.
God loves you and all of us – the soldiers gambling for his clothing, the thief on the cross next to him, and the person who has broken your trust – that much.  Just as I am, I ponder this marvel.  Just as I am, I soak in the glory of this humbling truth.  And perhaps, if I go deeper, I might pray not only to admire Jesus’ suffering but to share in it, to love as he loved, and to bear the cost with him. 
The hymn echoes well the turmoil most of us feel in the soul: “tossed about, with many a conflict, many a doubt, fightings and fears within, without.”  For me, the most intriguing line in the hymn is “To rid my soul of one dark blot.”  Do I have just one dark blot?  Or is there a lot of regrettable ink splattered on my soul?  Maybe it’s a theological Rorschach test.  I inspect the blot that is in me.  The blot that is me.  Do I have a problem?  Am I the problem?
Yes to both.  I have sins. Plural.  But sin is a condition.  It’s me, all of us actually, distanced infinitely from God, thinking that I can manage on my own.  I can fix my own problems.  It’s really all about me.  I am the center of the universe.   I must justify myself.  I must be good enough.  I must be enough.  To this “one dark blot,” Jesus responds by inviting us to ponder that “one thing is needful” (Luke 10:42 RSV).  It’s not that a thousand fixes are required for my thousand messes.  I am one problem.  Jesus is the one blotter-outter.  I come as I am to Jesus, who “wilt welcome pardon, cleanse.”
Then it adds “relieve.”  Is being out of trouble with God my relief?  Or is it having the massive weight of life apart from grace lifted from me?  So many of us live like Atlas, the Greek demigod who carries the weight of the world on his shoulders.  But God’s got it.  Or we carry the burden of thinking that we are to judge others.  God’s got that one too.  You’re relieved of that awful burden.  And so you can live freely, more lightly, and in the great joy of God’s good mercy.
You have to get up out of your easy chair and come.  The clincher in this hymn is what worked in the altar call: “I come.” And it’s repeated if you are hesitant:  “I come.” Come. Come to Jesus.  Just as you are.  You’ll never be the same.

Hymn of the Week: There Is a Place of Quiet Rest
Glory to God: #824

The devotion has been reprinted with permission of the author, James C. Howell, from his book entitled: Unrevealed Until Its Season: a Lenten Journey with Hymns.

Published by Upper Room Books 2021.

The book can be found here: https://upperroombooks.com/

Lord, You Have Come to the Lakeshore

Text and Music Cesáreo Gabaráin 1979

Lord, You have come to the lakeshore
Looking neither for wealthy nor wise ones
You only asked me to follow humbly

O Lord, with Your eyes You have searched me
And while smiling have spoken my name
Now my boat's left on the shoreline behind me
By Your side I will seek other seas

You know so well my possessions
My boat carries no gold and no weapons
You will find there, my nets and labor

O Lord, with Your eyes You have searched me
And while smiling have spoken my name
Now my boat's left on the shoreline behind me
By Your side I will seek other seas

You need my hands full of caring
Through my labors to give others rest
And constant love that keeps on loving

O Lord, with Your eyes You have searched me
And while smiling have spoken my name
Now my boat's left on the shoreline behind me
By Your side I will seek other seas

You, who have fished other oceans
Ever longed for by souls who are waiting
My loving friend, as thus You call me 

O Lord, with Your eyes You have searched me
And while smiling have spoken my name
Now my boat's left on the shoreline behind me
By Your side I will seek other seas

You Have Come to the Lakeshore

The first time I heard and sang, “Lord, You Have Come to the Lakeshore,” I was in Stuart Auditorium looking out over Lake Junaluska, a Methodist gathering place in the mountains of North Carolina. It reminded me of the times I’ve visited the shore of Galilee, and I felt transported back in time to that moment when Jesus first came to the lakeshore.

Jesus was walking by the Sea of Galilee. He saw two brothers, Simon and Andrew, casting their nets into the lake, for they were fishermen. Jesus said, “Come, follow me, and I will make you fishers of other people.” And at once they left their nets and followed him. (Matt. 4:18-20, AP)

The composer, Cesáreo Gabaráin, was a Spanish priest who started writing music for humble people in a more remote folksy style after the Roman Catholic Church’s reforms at the Second Vatican Council

(1965). His hymn tune (Pescador de Hombres, “Fisher of Men”) has a waltzing, lilting feel, mimicking the feeling of being on a boat rocked to and fro by the gentle waves.

Water has such astonishing beauty. A landscape photo or painting is more lovely if a river runs through it. John O’ Donohue notices, “Water stirs something very deep and ancient in the human heart. Our eyes and hearts follow its rhythm as if the flow of water were the mirror where time becomes obliquely visible. The image of water can hold such longing.”

Why are we so drawn to water? Is it because we began our lives in the water of our mother’s womb? Is it that our bodies are mostly water? Water quenches thirst, washes us clean, and is simply beautiful to behold. And it is not entirely safe. How many of the Gospel stories feature are the disciples being terrified on that very lake? Doesn’t water symbolize our inevitable humility, defying our grossly overrated ability to manage things?

God has provided us with bodies of water to keep us humble but also on an unending quest for more. Isaac Newton summed up all his knowledge: “I seem to have been only like a boy playing on the sea-shore, and diverting myself in now and then finding a smoother pebble or a prettier shell than ordinary, while the great ocean of truth lay all undiscovered before me.”

It’s intriguing to me that Jesus’ first encounters with those who would become his closest friends and most zealous followers took place not just by water but also at the workplace. Jesus came – and comes – to the places where people work. You don’t need to try and haul your faith into the workplace. Jesus is already there, showing up for work before you arrive – and you can’t get rid of him there either. The love, grace, call, and challenges are all around you if you (Like Simon and Andrew) have the ears to hear.

Gabaráin’s hymn claims that Jesus showed up at work looking “Neither for wealthy nor wise ones, neither gold nor weapons.” Rather Jesus was seeking “Humble followers.” Yes, “Lord, you know my possessions . . .my nets and labor . . . With your eyes, you have searched me, and while smiling have spoken my name.”

How lovely Jesus knows you, your work, your stuff. Imagine him with you, looking at you, into you, not past you, and he smiles and speaks your name.

It turns out that this Jesus who gifts you with presence and love also needs you. In the third stanza, we sing, “You need my hands, full of caring through my labors to give others rest, and constant love that keeps on loving.” Another Spanish Catholic, St. Teresa of Avila, is reported to have said, “Yours are the hands of Christ . . .Yours are the hands with which he is to bless now.” Look at your hands before work, during work, after work, and ask how you might bless others, how you might be God’s constant love through whatever you do.

Hymn of the Week: There Is a Place of Quiet Rest
Glory to God: #824

The devotion has been reprinted with permission of the author, James C. Howell, from his book entitled: Unrevealed Until Its Season: a Lenten Journey with Hymns.

Published by Upper Room Books 2021.

The book can be found here: https://upperroombooks.com/

Near to the Heart of God

Text and Music Cleland Boyd McAfee 1901

There is a place of quiet rest,
near to the heart of God,
a place where sin cannot molest,
near to the heart of God.

O Jesus, blest Redeemer,
sent from the heart of God,
hold us, who wait before thee,
near to the heart of God.

There is a place of comfort sweet,
near to the heart of God,
a place where we our Savior meet,
near to the heart of God. 

O Jesus, blest Redeemer,
sent from the heart of God,
hold us, who wait before thee,
near to the heart of God.

There is a place of full release,
near to the heart of God,
a place where all is joy and peace,
near to the heart of God. 

O Jesus, blest Redeemer,
sent from the heart of God,
hold us, who wait before thee,
near to the heart of God.

A Place of Quiet Rest

What is God’s greatest achievement, the truest indication of the magnificence of God? It is that God – instead of being merely omnipotent (merely omnipotent?), omniscient, omnipresent, infinite, ineffable, and transcendent – is primarily tender, present, closer than the breath you just drew, feeling the beating of your heart, loving you personally more than you love yourself or anybody else.

One of the hymns my grandmother sang while doing her chores or cooking dinner was “Near to the Heart of God.” Picture this: The God who had the power to create the universe, with galaxies and nebulae and black holes, not to mention the peaks of the Alps and the depths of the oceans, was on intimate terms with a short, aging woman from nowhere in particular. No matter the circumstance, she knew what the Bible’s poet declared: “For me, it is good to be near God” (Psalm 73:28).

“There is a place of quiet rest, near to the heart of God.” Where is this place? In my heart, of course. But you probably also need an actual place of quiet rest. Jesus spoke of shutting the door of your closet and praying in there (see Matthew 6:6). When I was a boy, there was a huge rock in the woods behind our house. I used to climb to the top and just sit there daydreaming. I wasn’t trying to practice Sabbath

or being still and knowing God was God (see Psalm 46:10). But I believe God was luring me there, preparing me to be someone who would always yearn for a place of quiet rest near to the heart of God.

We all yearn for quiet, and yet we harbor a fear of silence. The quiet feels like loneliness. I can’t dodge my self-doubts and worries when it's quiet. The hymn says this quiet rest is “a place where sin cannot molest.” Yet that’s exactly what I’m afraid of! The darkness might jump me in the quiet. But in reality, it jumps me when I’m rushing around.

The spiritual life is learning the delights of solitude, which isn’t loneliness but resting in and with God. It’s not taking a nap or getting away for a vacation. It’s not doing nothing; it is being. You probably need a dedicated place. You certainly will need to shut off your gadgets. The single greatest peril to the dream of a prayerful life is that we are always available for a text, a call, or an email. But if you’re always available, then you’re never available to God or to other people. We must find a way to visit Sabbath, to be still and know that God is God, to take a seat in the term Abraham Heschel used to describe the Sabbath: a “cathedral” of time.

“Hold us who wait before thee near to the heart of God.” How often does the Bible invite us to wait on the Lord? We don’t like to wait in line, in a waiting room, or for a diagnosis. It’s the loss of control. And yet, the one we are waiting on is our Lord. So instead of flitting away, we ask him to hold us. Please. We can be held. We can trust.

My mother-in-law used to speak of her morning prayer as her “lap time,” imagining that she would curl up in her heavenly Father’s lap, not to ask for favors, but simply to be, to feel the love.

Brian Doyle recalled when his sons would fall asleep on their pew during worship. He thought of this as “sheer simple mammalian affection, the wordless pleasure of leaning against someone you love and trust.” After they were grown and had leaned away from parents and church, he asked them to sit with him once more in worship as he was dying of cancer. Those little boys were now strong, and in his weakened state, he was the one leaning on them.

This leaning, this wordless pleasure, reminds us of our life with God. It is one of the ways God is close to us. I leaned more than once on my grandmother, the one who sang “There is a place of quiet rest, near to the heart of God.” Our hearts beating together, as close to God’s heart as you can get on this earth. “A place of comfort sweet . . .a place where all is joy and peace, near to the heart of God.”

Abraham Joshua Heschel, The Sabbath: It's Meaning for Modern Man (New York: Farrar, Straus and Giroux, 1951), 8.

Brian Doyle, One Long River of Song: Notes on Wonder (New York: Little, Brown, 2019), 239.

Hymn of the Week: He Leadeth Me

This Lenten Season:

The devotion has been reprinted with permission of the author, James C. Howell, from his book entitled: Unrevealed Until Its Season: a Lenten Journey with Hymns. Published by Upper Room Books 2021. The book can be found here: https://upperroombooks.com/book/unrevealed-until-its-season/

The next several week’s devotions come to us from a new book that takes us on a Lenten journey, using hymns of our faith. Each day of Lent is represented with a beloved hymn in the book. I will be sharing music and approximately 6 of the many devotionals available in the book.

Text Joseph H. Gilmore 1862
Music William Bradbury 1862

He Leadeth Me

He leadeth me: O blessed thought!
O words with heavenly comfort fraught!
Whate'er I do, where'er I be,
still 'tis God's hand that leadeth me.

Refrain:
He leadeth me, He leadeth me;
by his own hand He leadeth me:
His faithful follower I would be,
for by His hand, He leadeth me.

Sometimes mid scenes of deepest gloom,
sometimes where Eden's flowers bloom,
by waters calm, o'er troubled sea,
still 'tis God's hand that leadeth me. 

He leadeth me, He leadeth me;
by his own hand He leadeth me:
His faithful follower I would be,
for by His hand, He leadeth me.

Lord, I would clasp thy hand in mine,
nor ever murmur nor repine;
content, whatever lot I see,
since 'tis my God that leadeth me. 

He leadeth me, He leadeth me;
by his own hand He leadeth me:
His faithful follower I would be,
for by His hand, He leadeth me.

And when my task on earth is done,
when, by thy grace, the victory's won,
e'en death's cold wave I will not flee,
since God through Jordan leadeth me. 

He leadeth me, He leadeth me;
by his own hand He leadeth me:
His faithful follower I would be,
for by His hand, He leadeth me.

Psalter Hymnal, (Gray)

His Faithful Follower I Would Be

“He Leadeth Me” is sung to such a cheerful tune of major chords with not a hint of dissonance that it would be easy to get lulled into feeling that God’s leading is indeed a “blessed thought…..with heavenly comfort fraught.” Indeed, when God leads us, it is blessed, and there is comfort. And yet, as disciples and saints through history would be happy to remind us, being led by God can and will hurl you into conflicts, confrontations, grief, sacrifice, and even martyrdom.

And so we hesitate. We fantasize that God will lead us into green pastures, beside still waters, and to a banquet of fulfillment. Joseph Henry Gilmore composed this great hymn minutes after concluding a prayer meeting focused on Psalm 23. We yearn to be cute and soft little lambs led to flowing streams by the Good Shepherd! But what is shepherding like? And what are sheep like? The first shepherd I ever saw in the Holy Land was wearing an Elvis t-shirt, slogging around in the mud in green galoshes, swatting his sheep on their hind ends with a switch, and hollering what I assumed were Arabic expletives. The Lord is my shepherd.

Sheep really are dumb. They nibble here, they nibble there…and then they’re lost. Our grave spiritual peril, one we labor to escape during Lent, is that we will dupe ourselves into believing “I’m being led by the Lord” when really we’re just enjoying life, doing nice things with nice people, basking in our health, and success. With some earnestness, we do want to do God’s will, but then we have a hunch, a quivering emotion inside; something appeals to us, and we think This must be God’s leading! But is it really God, the holy and awesome God who led Abraham? Is it God who led Moses into the forge of Pharoah’s anger, who led Elijah into a near-death mountaintop experience while Jezebel was trying to kill him, who led Paul into prison, who led Civil Right’s protestors into beatings and jail, and who led Jesus to the cross?

Gilmore got carried away with his rhymes. He paired “deepest gloom” with “where Eden’s bowers bloom.” Oh my. But there we have it. Adam and Eve were the holiest people ever, free to delight in all the delicacies of God’s Garden. Yet they let themselves be led into disaster, to one of the blooming bowers, the one forbidden tree. Genesis 3 exposes human flaws we all suffer. We have an itch to be like God, to be God.

How do we discern God’s leading? God asks us to do things that are hard, that require courage, sacrifice, and an unflagging zeal no matter the cost. God leads us into the troubles of the world, precisely where Jesus walked every day. God leads us into the dark. We reach for God’s hand. It feels not so much comforting as firm, maybe a bit dirty and bloody: Jesus’ hand stretched out for our salvation.

Dietrich Bonhoeffer suggested that most of us prefer our goodness to doing God’s will. But doesn’t God want us to be good? If we dare to sing “He Leadeth Me,” we dare to realize that God doesn’t ask us to behave or stay out of trouble. Congressman John Lewis always said we should get into some “good trouble.” I wonder if he knew Bonhoeffer’s thought that our goodness can actually block us from God’s will. It’s not about keeping our hands clean. It’s about getting them dirty for God in the real world to work for change on God’s good earth. Being led in this way really is a “blessed thought.” Indeed “and when my task on earth is done,” I want to have stuck closely behind Jesus for days and years, having stumbled and gotten scraped up and bruised countless times. We start now. “His faithful follower I would be.”

Today’s video is presented by our very own Chancel Choir recorded on February 24, 2022, after a great rehearsal Thursday night. Special thanks to Dave Rinehart for recording us!

Hymn of the Week: I Love to Tell the Story
Glory to God: 462

Text Katherine Hankey 1866
Music William G. Fischer 1869

I Love to Tell the Story

I love to tell the story
Of unseen things above,
Of Jesus and His glory,
Of Jesus and His love:
I love to tell the story,
Because I know 'tis true;
It satisfies my longings
As nothing else can do.

I love to tell the story;
'twill be my theme in glory
to tell the old, old story
of Jesus and his love.

I love to tell the story;
'Tis pleasant to repeat
What seems each time I tell it,
More wonderfully sweet:
I love to tell the story,
For some have never heard
The message of salvation
From God's own holy Word.

I love to tell the story;
'twill be my theme in glory
to tell the old, old story
of Jesus and his love.

I love to tell the story;
For those who know it best
Seem hungering and thirsting
To hear it, like the rest:
And when, in scenes of glory,
I sing the new, new song,
'Twill be the old, old story
That I have loved so long.

I love to tell the story;
'twill be my theme in glory
to tell the old, old story
of Jesus and his love.

Arabella Katherine Hankey (1834-1911) grew up in the family of a wealthy English banker associated with the evangelical wing of the Anglican Church. As a teenager, she taught a girls' Sunday school class. Later she traveled to South Africa to serve as a nurse and to assist her invalid brother.

While recovering from a lengthy illness of her own at age 30, she wrote a poem on the life of Christ. This poem had two sections, the first published in January 1866 and entitled The Story Wanted, the second published later that year in November under the title The Story Told. Our hymn is drawn from stanzas in the second section. The text of the refrain was written by the composer of the music, William G. Fisher, in 1869. (A musician herself, Hankey wrote her own tunes for the text, but others found little use for them.)

In 1867 Englishman Major General Russell cited the text of "I Love to Tell the Story" at a large international YMCA gathering in Montreal. William Doane, a composer of more than 2000 gospel songs including music for many of Fanny Crosby's hymns, was in the audience. His musical setting did not stick, but another setting composed by William G. Fisher, a Philadelphia musician and piano dealer (1832-1912), did. When Phillip Bliss and Ira Sankey included Fisher's version in their influential Gospel Hymns and Sacred Songs (1875), its fame was assured.

The personal, intimate language comes through in such phrases, for example, as "it [the story] satisfies my longings as nothing else can do" (stanza one) and "it did so much for me, and that is just the reason I tell it now to thee" (stanza two). Hankey is passionate about this story and how it has changed her life. In the refrain the word "love" takes on a double meaning -- both about the state of the singer and the message of Jesus: "I love to tell the story . . . of Jesus and his love."

Hymnologist Kenneth Osbeck notes that Hankey wrote many books such as Bible Class Teachings and several collections of verse, and adds: "All of the royalties received from these publications were always directed to some foreign mission project."

C. Michael Hawn is a University Distinguished Professor of Church Music, Perkins School of Theology, SMU.

Hymn of the Week:  ‘Tis So Sweet to Trust in Jesus

Text Louisa M R Stead 1850-1917
Music. William Kirkpatrick

’Tis so sweet to trust in Jesus

’Tis so sweet to trust in Jesus,
Just to take Him at His Word;
Just to rest upon His promise,
Just to know, "Thus says the Lord!"

Jesus, Jesus, how I trust Him!
How I’ve proved Him o’er
and o’er Jesus, Jesus, precious Jesus!
O for grace to trust Him more!

O how sweet to trust in Jesus,
Just to trust His cleansing blood;
Just in simple faith to plunge me
’Neath the healing, cleansing flood!

Jesus, Jesus, how I trust Him!
How I’ve proved Him o’er
and o’er Jesus, Jesus, precious Jesus!
O for grace to trust Him more!

 Yes, ’tis sweet to trust in Jesus,
Just from sin and self to cease;
Just from Jesus simply taking
Life and rest, and joy and peace.

Jesus, Jesus, how I trust Him!
How I’ve proved Him o’er
and o’er Jesus, Jesus, precious Jesus!
O for grace to trust Him more! 

I’m so glad I learned to trust Thee,
Precious Jesus, Savior, Friend;
And I know that Thou art with me,
Wilt be with me to the end.

From her childhood, the call to missionary service was the guiding motivation for Louisa M. R. Stead (c. 1850-1917). Born in Dover, England, and converted at the age of nine, Stead came to the United States in 1871, living in Cincinnati. She attended a camp meeting in Urbana, Ohio, where she dedicated her life to missionary service. Ill health prevented her from serving initially. She married in 1875, and the couple had a daughter, Lily. Hymnologist Kenneth Osbeck describes a major turning point in the family’s life:

“When the child was four years of age, the family decided one day to enjoy the sunny beach at Long Island Sound, New York. While eating their picnic lunch, they suddenly heard cries of help and spotted a drowning boy in the sea. Mr. Stead charged into the water. As often happens, however, the struggling boy pulled his rescuer underwater with him, and both drowned before the terrified eyes of wife and daughter. Out of her ‘why?’ struggle with God during the ensuing days glowed these meaningful words from the soul of Louisa Stead.”

The hymn, “’Tis so sweet to trust in Jesus” was inspired by this personal tragedy.

Soon after, Lousia and Lily left for the Cape Colony, South Africa, where Louisa worked as a missionary for fifteen years. She married Robert Wodehouse, a native of South Africa. Because of her health, the family found it necessary to return to the United States in 1895. Wodehouse pastored a Methodist congregation during these years until, in 1900, they returned to the mission field, this time to the Methodist mission station at Umtali, Southern Rhodesia (present-day Zimbabwe).

Kenneth Osbeck records a message sent back to the United States shortly after her arrival in Southern Rhodesia:

“In connection with the whole mission there are glorious possibilities, but one cannot, in the face of the peculiar difficulties, help but say, ‘Who is sufficient for these things?’ But with simple confidence and trust, we may and do say, ‘Our sufficiency is of God.’”

Her daughter Lily married after their return to Africa. Louisa retired because of ill health in 1911. Lily continued to serve for many years in South Rhodesia. Her mother passed away after a long illness in 1917 at her home in Penkridge near the Mutambara Mission, fifty miles from Umtali. Following her death, it was recorded that Christians in South Rhodesia continued to sing her hymn in the local Shona language.

While the exact date of the composition is not known, sometime between 1880-1882, Lousia Stead’s hymn was first published in Songs of Triumph (1882). The Rev. Carlton R., Young, editor of The United Methodist Hymnal, describes the hymn’s content as “a series of loosely connected key evangelical words and phrases.” Indeed, the hymn is full of the language of piety common to the day in evangelical circles. Furthermore, the succession of stanzas lacks the usual progression of ideas leading to heaven that characterizes most gospel hymns.

Perhaps the hymn might be best described as a mantra in the name of Jesus. Indeed, “Jesus” is sung twenty-five times if one sings all four stanzas and the refrain. Stanza one is a simple statement of “trust in Jesus.” The singer is invited to “rest upon his promise.” Though the “promise” is not specifically articulated, it is assumed that all know that this is the promise of salvation. The stanza ends with “Thus saith the Lord” – a phrase, interestingly enough, that appears 413 times in the Old Testament in the King James Version, and is a reference to God rather than Jesus.

Stanza two continues the theme of trust, drawing upon the “cleansing blood” of Jesus. The poet demonstrates her trust as she “plung[es] . . . neath the healing, cleansing flood,” a possible reference to the William Cowper (1731-1800) hymn, “There is a fountain filled with blood”: “. . . and sinners plunge beneath that flood lose all their guilty stains.” The typology of the cleansing flood may find its biblical roots in Genesis 6-7, the account of Noah and the great flood, or perhaps the blood and water that flowed from the crucified Christ’s side (John 19:34), or even a conflation of these ideas. Cowper’s hymn was probably well known to Stead, and she referenced it in her hymn.

Stanza three stresses that one should die to “sin and self” by “simply taking life and rest, and joy and peace” in Jesus. Stanza four is a personal witness by the author that she is “so glad I learned to trust thee.” The final stanza concludes with a fleeting eschatological reference, “thou art with me, wilt be with me to the end.” Though this reference to heaven is not as pronounced as one would often find in similar gospel hymns of this era, especially in Fanny Crosby. Referencing heaven in some way is virtually obligatory in this theological context.

The refrain establishes the Jesus mantra, singing his name five times, the last strengthened by adding the qualifying, “precious Jesus.” Though the singer has “proved him o’er and o’er,” the prayer is for “grace to trust him more.”

C. Michael Hawn is a University Distinguished Professor of Church Music, Perkins School of Theology, SMU.

Hymn of the Week:  He Comes to Us as One Unknown

Text: Timothy Dudley Smith b. 1926
Music: Sir Hubert Parry 1848-1918
REPTON (Dear Lord, and Father of Mankind)

Today’s hymn, although mostly sung in the Episcopal church and not in our hymnal, is still one of my all-time favorite tunes. I love how the melody meanders up and down a very limited range of notes yet captures the meditative quality of the text written in the 1960s.

He Comes to Us as One Unknown

He comes to us as one unknown,
A breath unseen, unheard;
As though within a heart of stone,
Or shriveled seed in darkness sown,
A pulse of being stirred,
A pulse of being stirred.

He comes when souls in silence lie
And thoughts of day depart;
Half seen upon the inward eye,
A falling star across the sky
Of night within the heart,
Of night within the heart.

He comes to us in sound of seas,
The ocean's fume and foam;
Yet small and still upon the breeze,
A wind that stirs the tops of trees,
A voice to call us home,
A voice to call us home.

He comes in love as once he came
By flesh and blood and birth;
To bear within our mortal frame
A life, a death, a saving Name,
For ev'ry child of earth,
For ev'ry child of earth.

He comes in truth when faith is grown;
Believed, obeyed, adored:
The Christ in all the scriptures shown,
As yet unseen, but not unknown,
Our Savior and our Lord,
Our Savior and our Lord.

Timothy Dudley-Smith (b. 1926) Educated at Pembroke College and Ridley Hall, Cambridge, Dudley-Smith has served the Church of England since his ordination in 1950. He has occupied a number of church positions, including parish priest in the diocese of Southwark (1953-1962), archdeacon of

Norwich (1973-1981), and bishop of Thetford, Norfolk, from 1981 until his retirement in 1992. He also edited a Christian magazine, Crusade, which was founded after Billy Graham's 1955 London crusade. Dudley-Smith began writing comic verse while a student at Cambridge; he did not begin to write hymns until the 1960s. Many of his several hundred hymn texts have been collected in Lift Every Heart: Collected Hymns 1961-1983 (1984), Songs of Deliverance: Thirty-six New Hymns (1988), and A Voice of Singing (1993). The writer of Christian Literature and the Church (1963), Someone Who Beckons (1978), and Praying with the English Hymn Writers (1989), Dudley-Smith has also served on various editorial committees, including the committee that published Psalm Praise (1973).
Bert Polman

This arrangement comes from one of my favorite piano hymn tune arrangers: Thomas Keesecker.

Philip

Hymn of the Week: We Fall Down
Glory to God: 368

Text and Music Chris Tomlin 1998

We Fall Down

We fall down: we lay our crowns at the feet of Jesus:
The greatness of mercy and love, at the feet of Jesus.

And we cry holy, holy, holy.
And we cry holy, holy holy is the Lamb.

This week we’re going in a new direction with our hymnody. New, but a song that has been with us for over 20 years. This hymn, as you can see above, is a hymn that is in our wonderful hymnal. Enjoy hearing the story behind this hymn from the composer/poet’s own point of view.

Then give a listen to one of the really cool recordings I found of the actual hymn.

Have a great week.
Philip

Hymn of the Week: Precious Lord, Take My Hand
Glory to God: 834

Today, I went back into the vaults to April 2020 to share with you a hymn especially suited for Martin Luther King Day. You will hear in the video, how the composer has woven together Martin Luther King’s I Have a Dream speech. Enjoy.

This week I want to look at the very familiar black gospel hymn, Precious Lord, Take My Hand. The words come from the jazz musician, Thomas A. Dorsey. Many hymns are conceived in the throes of tragedy. “Precious Lord” was written in 1932 following the death of Thomas Dorsey’s young wife, Nettie, and their infant son.

Being a young jazz musician, he was called from his home in Chicago to play a gig in St. Louis, leaving his expectant wife at home alone. It was after the gig that he received the telegram of what had happened. He was of course inconsolable. Here are his own words:

“But still I was lost in grief. Everyone was kind to me, especially a friend, Professor Frye, who seemed to know what I needed. On the following Saturday evening, he took me up to Malone’s Poro College, a neighborhood music school. It was quiet; the late evening sun crept through the curtained windows. I sat down at the piano, and my hands began to browse over the keys."

As his fingers roamed the keys, he came upon a remembered hymn from the Methodist hymnal named Maitland which was paired with the text, Must Jesus Bear the Cross Alone.

Here are the comforting words he paired with this old tune from 1844.

Precious Lord, take my hand
Lead me on, let me stand
I am tired, I'm weak, I am worn
Through the storm, through the night
Lead me on to the light
Take my hand, precious Lord
Lead me home

When my way groweth drear
Precious Lord, linger near
When my light is almost gone
Hear my cry, hear my call
Hold my hand lest I fall
Take my hand, precious Lord
Lead me on.

The video I am attaching to this week’s article comes from our very own Chancel Choir from several years ago. This is one of the choir’s favorite hymns to sing. This particular arrangement also weaves in the words of Martin Luther King’s I Have a Dream speech. What a beautiful and hopeful paring of texts that when we walk through the valley of the shadow of death, we can still dare to dream of God’s kingdom here on earth.

Stay Healthy!
Philip

Hymn of the Week: Peace Like a River
Glory to God: 623

Text and Music: African American Spiritual

This spiritual is one of my all-time favorites. As we remember Christ’s baptism on January 9th as well as our own baptisms, this hymn beautifully denotes the immense joy, peace, and love associated with water. The constant repetitiveness while lying in the middle of the voice almost creates a beautiful image of water lapping onto the shore. The use of repetition here is extremely poignant and lends itself to the meditative spirit that water can bring to our souls.

1
I've got peace like a river,
I've got peace like a river,
I've got peace like a river in my soul.
I've got peace like a river,
I've got peace like a river,
I've got peace like a river in my soul.

2
I've got love like an ocean,
I've got love like an ocean,
I've got love like an ocean in my soul.
I've got love like an ocean,
I've got love like an ocean,
I've got love like an ocean in my soul

3
I've got joy like a fountain,
I've got joy like a fountain,
I've got joy like a fountain in my soul.
I've got joy like a fountain,
I've got joy like a fountain,
I've got joy like a fountain in my soul.
 

The Hebrew prophet Isaiah’s imagery of “peace like a river” (66:12) is thought to be the basis for this spiritual text. Other nautical references might imply that this was a seacoast or riverboat song. The Mississippi River, for instance, was a major trade route.

The references to peace, joy, love, and faith include four of the nine “fruits of the spirit” mentioned in Galatians 5:22. This is one of the very few hymns to use water similes to describe the attributes of faith – like a river, fountain, ocean, and anchor.

This tune, named PEACE LIKE A RIVER from words in the text, has its roots in the African American spirituals that sustained people in poverty and captivity. The tranquil images contrast with the stressful life and demands of life as a slave.

Note that each stanza of this spiritual is sung twice, once with the first ending and once with the second ending. The editorial note in the hymnal invites congregations to invent other similes to describe what other “fruits of the spirit” might be like. Water is the connecting theme here.

Hymn of the Week: Take Time to be Holy

Take Time to Be Holy
Text William D. Longstaff 1822-1894
Music George Stebbins 1846-1945

1. Take time to be holy,
speak oft with thy Lord;
abide in him always,
and feed on his word.
Make friends of God's children,
help those who are weak,
forgetting in nothing
his blessing to seek.

2. Take time to be holy,
the world rushes on;
spend much time in secret
with Jesus alone.
By looking to Jesus,
like him thou shalt be;
thy friends in thy conduct
his likeness shall see.

3. Take time to be holy,
let him be thy guide,
and run not before him,
whatever betide.
In joy or in sorrow,
still follow the Lord,
and, looking to Jesus,
still trust in his word.

4. Take time to be holy,
be calm in thy soul,
each thought and each motive
beneath his control.
Thus led by his spirit
to fountains of love,
thou soon shalt be fitted
for service above.

As we consider the passing of another year, I thought we would take a look at a hymn I grew up singing in my little Baptist church in Springfield, Ohio. I love how it reflects on and encourages us to consider how we spend our time together. I am including two videos for this hymn. There is the tune that George Stebbins set, for which it is known, but I also invite you to listen to the Mormon Tabernacle sing to the tune of Be Thou My Vision. It fits poetically and musically and breathes new life into this text. The bulk of the article comes from Dr. Hawn’s online writings of the hymns that I use periodically.

This beloved devotional hymn comes to us from British layman William Dunn Longstaff (1822-1894). Since his father was a wealthy shipowner, Longstaff was a person of independent financial means. Due to his generous philanthropy, he was influential in evangelical circles. The Rev. Carlton Young, an editor of The United Methodist Hymnal, notes that he followed his friend and persuasive Welsh preacher Arthur A. Rees when he left the Anglican priesthood in 1842 after disagreements with his rector and bishop. As a result, Rees established the Bethesda Free Chapel in Sunderland, where Longstaff served as his church treasurer. He married Joyce Burlinson in 1853 and together they had seven children.

Longstaff befriended a number of well-known evangelists such as William Booth (1829-1912), founder of the Salvation Army. Some of Longstaff’s hymns were published in the official magazine of the Salvation Army magazine, The War Cry, during the 1880s. In 1873 the famous American preacher Dwight L. Moody (1837-1899) and his chief musician Ira D. Sankey (1840-1908) arrived in England to hold a series of evangelistic meetings. The financial sponsor for their revivals died, leaving them with meager means to continue. They were desperately seeking funds, and Longstaff came to their rescue, helping to establish a donor base that allowed Moody to hold revivals in London and Scotland.

Methodist hymnologist Robert Guy McCutchan notes that Longstaff was inspired by the words of Griffith John, a missionary to China, repeated in a meeting in Keswick, England in the early 1880s. John cited I Peter 1:16, "Be ye holy; for I am holy" (KJV), a reference to Leviticus 11:44. The hymn text appeared in Hymns of Consecration, the collection of hymns used during the Keswick event.

Longstaff showed the hymn to Ira Sankey, who in turn passed it on to American songwriter George C. Stebbins (1846-1945) to set in 1882. Stebbins laid it aside and did not recall it until an evangelistic meeting in India, during which the theme of holiness was explored. Stebbins recalled Longstaff’s hymn and set it to music for the revival. He sent his tune HOLINESS to Sankey, who published the hymn in New Songs and Sacred Solos (1888).

Each of the four stanzas begins with the invitation, "Take time to be holy." The first stanza begins with a devotional request, "speak oft with thy Lord." The invitation to holiness extends to care for "God’s children" and "those who are weak," echoing the twin commandments, Matthew 22:36-40, to love God and neighbor.

The second stanza seeks to be alone with Jesus while "the world rushes on." Through time with Jesus, "like him we shall be," and, as a result, others will witness this "likeness." In Methodist theology, this might be seen as a journey toward Christian perfection.

In stanza three, Jesus becomes the "guide" that we follow and trust. The final stanza suggests that when we "Take time to be holy," our souls become calm. This calmness leads to Jesus' control in our lives. Control manifests itself in "fountains of love." This love in turn "fit[s us] for service above."

In addition, Longstaff’s sense of devotional holiness also does not embrace a Wesleyan sense of social justice. This hymn has appeared in Methodist hymnals in the United States since 1901, reflecting the evangelical roots of Methodism in this country.

Dr. Hawn is a distinguished professor of church music at Perkins School of Theology. He is also the director of the seminary's sacred music program.

Hymn of the Week: Hark! The Herald Angels Sing
Glory to God 119

Hark! The Herald Angels Sing

Text Charles Wesley 1739
Music Felix Mendelssohn 1855

Hark! the herald angels sing,
"Glory to the newborn King:
peace on earth, and mercy mild,
God and sinners reconciled!"
Joyful, all ye nations, rise,
join the triumph of the skies;
with th'angelic hosts proclaim,
"Christ is born in Bethlehem!"

Hark! the herald angels sing,
"Glory to the newborn King"

Christ, by highest heaven adored,
Christ, the everlasting Lord,
late in time behold him come,
offspring of the Virgin's womb:
veiled in flesh the Godhead see;
hail th'incarnate Deity,
pleased with us in flesh to dwell,
Jesus, our Immanuel.

Hark! the herald angels sing,
"Glory to the newborn King"

Hail the heaven-born Prince of Peace!
Hail the Sun of Righteousness!
Light and life to all he brings,
risen with healing in his wings.
Mild he lays his glory by,
born that we no more may die,
born to raise us from the earth,
born to give us second birth. 

Hark! the herald angels sing,
"Glory to the newborn King"
 

The opening lines of this favorite Christmas hymn echo Luke 2:14, “Glory to God in the highest, and on earth peace. . .” (KJV). Immediately, the hymn writer established a cosmic connection between the heavenly chorus and our hope for peace on earth. While many Christmas carols recount in one way or another the Christmas narrative, Wesley provides a dense theological interpretation of the Incarnation.

Wesley begins not with the prophets, the Annunciation to Mary, the journey to Bethlehem, or the search for a room, but in media res – in the middle of the action. Rather than citing the final phrase of Luke 2:14 – “good will toward men” (KJV) – he offers his theological interpretation – “God and sinners reconciled.” This is indeed a stronger theological statement. Note that lines 2, 3, and 4 of the opening stanza are placed in quotation marks, an indication that they are virtually citations from Scripture. Wesley includes his theological interpretation of the last poetic line within the quoted material indicating the strength and authority of his perspective.

God and sinners reconciled” was a natural interpretation since the hymn was written within a year of Charles Wesley’s conversion. It first was published under the title “Hymn for Christmas Day” in Hymns and Sacred Poems (1739) in ten shorter stanzas, each stanza half the length of the stanzas we sing today. The hymn that we now sing is the result of many alterations by numerous individuals and hymnal editorial committees.

Changes in hymn texts are quite common. The average singer on Sunday morning would be amazed (or perhaps chagrined) to realize how few hymns before the twentieth century in our hymnals appear exactly in their original form. Perhaps the most notable change in this hymn was Wesley’s first line. The original read, “Hark how all the welkin rings!” “Welkin” is an archaic English term referring to the sky or the firmament of the heavens, even the highest celestial sphere of the angels. This term certainly supported the common eighteenth-century notion of the three-tiered universe, where the top tier includes the celestial beings, the lowest tier the normal activities of humanity (birth, death, marriage, work, sickness), and the natural created order (rain, drought, natural disasters), and the middle tier where celestial beings influence the activities of beings and events on earth with their superhuman powers.

Gratefully, George Whitefield (1740-1770), a powerful preacher and friend to the Wesley brothers, made several changes to this hymn in his Collection (1753). He eschewed the original first line for the scriptural dialogue between heaven and earth. Wesley scholar and professor at Perkins School of Theology, Dr. Ted Campbell, comments on Whitefield’s modification of the first line with his characteristic humor: “I have wondered if anybody but Charles knew what a welkin was supposed to be. Maybe John looked at the draft version and said, ‘It’s ever so lovely, Charles, but whatever on earth is a ‘welkin'?’ So, all the more reason to give thanks for the editorial work of George Whitefield.”

The familiar first line we now sing sets up the opening stanza as an expansion of the song of the angels in Luke 2:14. Rather than exerting influence in the form of spirits, demons, or other beings said to inhabit the middle zone of the three-tiered universe, God, through the Incarnation, comes directly to earth in human form, the “Word made flesh . . . [dwelling] among us . . . full of grace and truth” (John 1:14, KJV). The change in the opening line is perhaps the most significant alteration of the many that have taken place in this hymn over the centuries.
 

The second most significant change from the original is the addition of the refrain, reiterating the first phrase of Luke 2:14. This came about for musical reasons. Almost exactly 100 years after the hymn’s composition, Felix Mendelssohn (1809-1847) composed a cantata, Festgesang (1840), celebrating the 400th anniversary of the invention of moveable type by Johannes Gutenberg. A chorus from this cantata was adapted and paired with Wesley’s text in The Congregational Psalmist (1858) by an English musician and singer under Mendelssohn, William H. Cummings (1831-1915). A famous and influential hymn collection, Hymns Ancient and Modern (1861) carried this arrangement and helped to standardize its form and promote its broader use. Pairing the tune MENDELSSOHN with Wesley’s text caused two additional changes from the original. Two of Wesley’s short stanzas were combined into one to fit the longer tune; a refrain, repeating the first two lines of stanza one, was added to accommodate the tune. There is no doubt that most of the alterations to Wesley’s original text combined with Mendelssohn’s rousing tune have helped to make this one of the most festive and popular of all Christmas hymns.

The allusions to Scripture and various Wesleyan theological concepts are many. A few must suffice. “Desire of nations” is a reference drawn from Haggai 2:7: “And I will shake all nations, and the desire of all nations shall come . . ..” Handel incorporated this passage into Messiah (1741) in a bass solo in the Christmas portion of the oratorio. John Mason Neale, translating the Latin hymn Veni, Veni Emanuel in the middle nineteenth century, cited this reference into the final stanza of his hymn: “O come, Desire of nations, bind/in one the hearts of all mankind.”
 

Wesley often used the words, “mystic union,” a Moravian concept that he incorporated into Wesleyan theology in the second stanza cited above. In the third stanza above, we are reminded of imago Dei in the phrase, “Stamp Thine image in its place,” taking on the image of God in place of that of sinful Adam, a reference to the Wesleyan concept of sanctification.

“Hark! the herald angels sing” highlights the virgin birth, the universal application of the coming of “th’incarnate Deity” to all nations, and that Christ, who was “pleased with us in flesh to dwell,” gives humanity a “second birth.” The “second” or “new birth” was essential to Wesleyan theology in light of a controversy with the Moravians.

The final stanza in most hymnals paraphrases the beautiful biblical citation from Malachi 4:2: “But unto you that fear my name shall the Sun of righteousness arise with healing in his wings” (KJV).

Each Christmas season we are invited by this venerable hymn to join the angels in swelling the cosmic chorus:

With th’angelic host proclaim,
“Christ is born in Bethlehem!”
Hark! the herald angels sing,
“Glory to the new-born King!”

C. Michael Hawn is a University Distinguished Professor of Church Music, Perkins School of Theology, SMU.

Hymn of the Week: In the Bleak Midwinter
Glory to God 144

In the Bleak Midwinter 

Text Christina Rosetti 1872
Music Gustav Holst 1906

In the bleak midwinter, frosty wind made moan,
earth stood hard as iron, water like a stone;
snow had fallen, snow on snow, snow on snow,
in the bleak midwinter, long ago.

Our God, heaven cannot hold him, nor earth sustain;
heaven and earth shall flee away when he comes to reign.
In the bleak midwinter a stable place sufficed
the Lord God Almighty, Jesus Christ.

Angels and archangels may have gathered there,
cherubim and seraphim thronged the air;
but his mother only, in her maiden bliss,
worshiped the beloved with a kiss.

What can I give him, poor as I am?
If I were a shepherd, I would bring a lamb;
if I were a Wise Man, I would do my part;
yet what I can I give him: give my heart.

Christina Georgiana Rossetti (1830-1894) gives us one of the most beloved Christmas hymns. The author of three collections of mostly religious poetry and four devotional books, she came from a family steeped in the arts. Her deep faith is thought to be partially the result of the solace that she found in writing as a result of her poor health from age sixteen.

Christina’s father, Gabriele Rossetti, was a professor of Italian at King’s College, London, living in exile in England. Her brothers Dante Gabriel and William Michael gave birth to a nineteenth-century art movement, the Pre-Raphaelites, for which the beautiful Christina often served as a model (see the photo), especially for portraits of the Madonna. Among the family friends was Charles Dodgson, who, under the pseudonym of Lewis Carroll, authored the famous Alice in Wonderland. An ardent Anglican, Christina rejected one suitor because he was Roman Catholic.

Her most famous hymns are the Christmas texts, "Love Came Down at Christmas" composed in 1885 (UM Hymnal No. 242), and "In the Bleak Midwinter," the latter first published as the poem

"A Christmas Carol" in Scribner’s Monthly in January 1872. It first appeared as a hymn in The English Hymnal (1906), where it was paired to a tune by the famous English composer Gustav Holst (1874-1934). Now, over 100 years later, we sing this hymn in virtually the same form as it appeared in 1906.

In the first memorable stanza, Rossetti creates a dreary and desolate image of the world into which the infant Jesus appeared by drawing on the experience of a British winter. She is not suggesting that it literally snowed in Bethlehem, but is drawing on a long-established literary idea of associating snow with Christ's birth. The famous seventeenth-century poet, John Milton, used the winter imagery in his poem, "On the Morning of Christ’s Nativity," as a pure covering to hide the sin of the world.

Rossetti exploits this metaphor in the opposite way in her opening stanza. The Incarnate One, the Light of the World, brought warmth into the most forlorn and dreary of sinful situations.

The second stanza uses the device of antithesis to make the point that the eternal One whom "heaven could not hold" nor "earth sustain" appeared during the "bleak winter" of human existence where "a stable place sufficed." This paradox of the eternal One born in a humble setting is a primary theme of many hymns of this season.

The third stanza once again contrasts the heavenly glory of gathered "Angels and archangels" and "cherubim and seraphim" with the mother who alone "worshiped the beloved with a kiss."

Watson cites an article by British hymn writer Elizabeth Cosnett (b. 1936) who provides a social commentary that may shed light on this stanza. She notes that "when a woman wrote these words women were largely excluded from the professions and from higher education." Like the shepherds, she was not employed; like the wise men, Rossetti held no degree. Watson concludes that this reading of the final stanza "does not invalidate the more general reading of the verse, but it gives a special sharpness and poignancy to the last verse for those who wish to find it."

The writer invites us to offer our own gift to the Christ Child just as the shepherds and wise men did. Rather than the presence of a lamb or expensive gifts, however, we offer the most important gift -- our hearts.

Dr. Hawn is a distinguished professor of church music at Perkins School of Theology. He is also the director of the seminary's sacred music program.

Hymn of the Week: Once in Royal David’s City
Glory to God 140

Text Cecil Frances Alexander 1848
Music Henry John Gauntlett 1849

Once in Royal David’s City

Once in royal David's city
stood a lowly cattle shed,
where a mother laid her baby
in a manger for his bed:
Mary was that mother mild,
Jesus Christ, her little child.

He came down to earth from heaven
who is God and Lord of all,
and his shelter was a stable,
and his cradle was a stall;
with the poor and mean and lowly,
lived on earth our Savior holy.

Jesus is our childhood’s pattern;
Day by day, like us he grew;
He was little weak and helpless;
Tears and smiles like us he knew;
An he feels for all our sadness,
And he shares in all our gladness.

And our eyes at last shall see him,
through his own redeeming love,
for that child, so dear and gentle,
is our Lord in heav'n above,
and he leads his children on
to the place where he is gone.

One of the Christmas traditions celebrated by many persons in the English-speaking world is to tune in on Christmas Eve, either on radio or television, to the Festival of Nine Lessons and Carols, originating from King’s College, Cambridge. This tradition began in 1918, the first broadcast in 1928, and is now heard by millions around the world.

In 1919, Arthur Henry Mann, organist at King’s College (1876-1929), introduced an arrangement of “Once in Royal David’s City” as the processional hymn for the service. In his version, the first stanza is sung unaccompanied by a boy chorister. The choir and then the congregation join in with the organ on succeeding stanzas. This has been the tradition ever since. It is a great honor to be the boy chosen to sing the opening solo—a voice heard literally around the world.

The author of this text, Cecil Frances Alexander (1818-1895), was born in Dublin, Ireland, and began writing in verse from an early age. She became so adept that by the age of 22, several of her hymn texts made it into the hymnbook of the Church of Ireland. Alexander [née Humphreys] married William Alexander, both a clergyman and a poet in his own right who later became the bishop of the Church of Ireland in Derry and later archbishop. Aside from her prolific hymn writing, Mrs. Alexander gave much of her life to charitable work and social causes, something rather rare for women of her day.

“Once in Royal David’s City” first appeared in her collection, Hymns for Little Children (1848), in six stanzas. This particular text was included with others as a means to musically and poetically teach the catechism. It is based on the words of the Apostles’ Creed, “Born of the Virgin Mary,” and is in six stanzas of six lines each. Even though this text is included in the Christmas liturgical sections of most hymnals, the narrative painted by Alexander truly relates to the entire “youth” of Christ and not just his birth.

The first time the text appeared with its most popular tune pairing, IRBY, composed by Henry John Gauntlett (1805-1876), was in the Appendix to the First Edition of Hymns Ancient and Modern (1868). Gauntlett, born in Wellington, Shropshire, England, was trained in the fields of law and music and is said to have composed over 10,000 hymn tunes. IRBY is the primary tune for which he is known in the United States.

This is one of Alexander’s most narrative and vivid texts, shattering perceptions of the picturesque Nativity with the realities of the lowly stable, and the weak and dependent baby. The hymn’s controversial nature comes from the language expressing the cultural patronizing of children during the Victorian era (words such as “little,” “weak” and “helpless” are ones found particularly appalling in a 21st-century context).

In the spirit of the Romantic poetic era, Alexander speculates in stanza three that Jesus was “little, weak, and helpless” when there is no biblical account to support this. On the contrary, the one biblical witness we have of Jesus’ boyhood in Luke 2:41-52 indicates that he strayed from his parents and caused quite a stir in the temple when teachers “who heard him were amazed at his wisdom and his answers.” (Luke 2:47)

Dr. Hawn is a professor of sacred music at Perkins School of Theology, SMU. Ms. Hanna is a candidate for the Master of Sacred Music degree at Perkins