hymn

Tried and Trusted Old Words

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As I get older, the more I appreciate the old hymns. I get that some may have trouble getting past some of the archaic language with all the thees and thous floating about. But there’s some sound theology in those stanzas that has brought comfort to so many down through the decades.

One that I discovered not that long ago is a hymn that I probably have never sung in any church, but the words are powerful. This speaks to all those who are in a dark night of the soul or going through a difficult season:

Whate’er my God ordains is right:
His holy will abideth;
I will be still whate’er He doth;
And follow where He guideth;
He is my God; though dark my road,
He holds me that I shall not fall:
Wherefore to Him I leave it all.

Whate’er my God ordains is right:
He never will deceive me;
He leads me by the proper path:
I know He will not leave me.
I take, content, what He hath sent;
His hand can turn my griefs away,
And patiently I wait His day.

Whate’er my God ordains is right:
His loving thought attends me;
No poison can be in the cup
That my Physician sends me.
My God is true; each morn anew
I’ll trust His grace unending,
My life to Him commending.

Whate’er my God ordains is right:
He is my Friend and Father;
He suffers naught to do me harm,
Though many storms may gather,
Now I may know both joy and woe,
Some day I shall see clearly
That He hath loved me dearly.

Whate’er my God ordains is right:
Though now this cup, in drinking,
May bitter seem to my faint heart,
I take it, all unshrinking.
My God is true; each morn anew
Sweet comfort yet shall fill my heart,
And pain and sorrow shall depart.

Whate’er my God ordains is right:
Here shall my stand be taken;
Though sorrow, need, or death be mine,
Yet I am not forsaken.
My Father’s care is round me there;
He holds me that I shall not fall:
And so to Him I leave it all” (Author: Samuel Rodigast (1675); Translator: Catherine Winkworth (1863).

The Story Behind the Song

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I always love reading about classic hymns and carols and the stories of their inspiration and origins. Hymns like It Is Well with My Soul come out of tragedy and heartbreak, but the message they bring has lived on long after the writers have gone to glory.

The carol I Heard the Bells on Christmas Day has a similar story that I found recently. I’ve copied and pasted it and included the link to the original post:

“On Christmas Day in 1863, the American poet Henry Wadsworth Longfellow listened to the bells from a nearby church, overwhelmed by loss.

Two years earlier, his wife had burned to death in a fire, and he had also been badly burned trying to save her. At times, his grief was so great that he feared that he would be sent to an asylum.

His son had also been wounded in the Civil War and was temporarily paralyzed. As he listened to the church bells, Longfellow wrote a poem that reflected his grief:

‘In despair,’ he wrote, ‘I bowed my head. There is no peace on earth, I said.’

But he ended the poem, which was later put to music, on a note of triumph.

‘Then rang the bells more loud and deep
God is not dead, nor doth He sleep
The wrong shall fail, the right prevail
With peace on Earth, good will to men’

This Christmas Day will be 161 years….and the song still brings the same sense of settledness and confident hope to millions across the globe!

Do you hear the bells!! Open up your heart and hear them this Christmas!!”

God in Unexpected Places

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Earlier today, I wanted some soothing background music, so I turned on a DirecTV channel called Soundscapes that plays vaguely new-agey music. Mostly, it’s instrumental, so I can read or do other things without being distracted.

Then they started playing a song called “If A Rose Could Speak, ” and lo and behold, a woman starts singing. I was definitely not expecting that. But it was mostly generic lyrics about love, so I didn’t really pay much attention.

Then the song went into a kind of counter-melody. I instantly recognized the tune, but I couldn’t place it. The more I heard, the more I knew that I knew it, but couldn’t remember where. Then the line hit me: “Lord of all, to thee we raise / This our hymn of grateful praise.”

It was the melody of the old hymn “For the Beauty of the Earth.”

I’m sure that it could also be the melody to another old song from ye olden days. Hymn writers were known to take familiar songs and add new lyrics to them so that people would recognize them and catch on faster.

But it was an odd moment for me in the middle of my day. It was also a gentle reminder that even with all the evil that seems to run rampant all over the world, the Earth still belongs to the Lord. Jesus is still in control. Even a broken and fallen creation can still glorify and bring praise to the Creator.

For those unfamiliar with the old hymn, here are the words in full:

“For the beauty of the earth, 
for the glory of the skies, 
for the love which from our birth 
over and around us lies. 
 
Christ, our Lord, to you we raise 
this, our hymn of grateful praise. 

For the wonder of each hour 
of the day and of the night, 
hill and vale and tree and flower, 
sun and moon and stars of light,

Christ, our Lord, to you we raise 
this, our hymn of grateful praise. 

For the joy of human love, 
brother, sister, parent, child, 
friends on earth, and friends above, 
for all gentle thoughts and mild,

Christ, our Lord, to you we raise 
this, our hymn of grateful praise. 

For yourself, best gift divine, 
to the world so freely given, 
agent of God’s grand design: 
peace on earth and joy in heaven.

Christ, our Lord, to you we raise 
this, our hymn of grateful praise” (Folliott Sandford Pierpoint).

The Love of God

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

I had several ideas of what to write about for tonight’s post, but when I read this stanza that I posted back on this day in 2011, I knew what I had to write about.

This, the love of God, supersedes any political debate or doctrinal questions. The love of God is stronger than our doubts and deeper than our fears.

The love of God will last longer than the earth and  sky and all of human history. Nothing that the worst of humanity could ever devise will ever put and end to it or stop it from achieving its end.

I’m thankful tonight that this love of God sought me out relentlessly and wouldn’t let go until I finally relented. I’m more thankful that this love of God has never stopped pursuing me through seasons of selfishness and self-doubt.

According to what I read, this last stanza in the great hymn The Love of God was a revision of an ancient Jewish writing from over 1,000 years ago. The person wrote it on the walls of the insane asylum where he lived and was found after he died. Apparently, this was during one of his moments of lucidity.

The rest of the hymn was added around it later, but these are the words that haunt me tonight and have given my soul great rest and peace. May they do the same to you and may you remember them in the days to come when life gets hard and hectic.

 

Worship Revisited

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“Worship is to honour with extravagant love and extreme submission” (Webster’s Dictionary, 1828).

Tonight at Kairos, Michael Boggs talked about worship. If anybody knows about worship, you’d think it’d be someone who makes his living as a worship leader. Yes, he’s really, really good at leading others into the presence of God through worship music.

Yet he himself would say that worship isn’t restricted solely to singing of songs. Worship is more than music, more than a song.

Worship is a lifestyle that starts where we live, work, and play. Worship is an attitude that informs everything we do. Worship is a state of mind that turns even the most menial of tasks into acts of adoration to God.

I’m guilty of expecting the most up-to-date songs when I go to a worship event. I expect professional-caliber musicianship (I suppose I’m a bit spoiled from living in Nashville where practically everyone plays guitar and writes songs and sings).

True worship starts before I walk through the church doors. If I am truly worshipping in spirit and in truth like Jesus told me I should, then I can worship to the latest Hillsong offering with a full band or a 500-year old hymn accompanied by a pipe organ and piano.

I’ve been to a tiny church where the pastor spoke with a thick African accent that was difficult for me to understand. The girl who led worship was about a half-step off-key the entire time. Yet I can’t think of a more worshipful experience.

A good musician with a good band can manipulate a crowd into an excited frenzy. Big speakers, colorful lights, and the right atmosphere can heighten the emotional rush. But there is still no true worship without the Holy Spirit, even with the most talented musicians and sound/light techs in the world.

My prayer is that my worship won’t just be on Sundays at 9:30 am and on Tuesdays at 7 pm, but 24 hours a day, 7 days a week. I pray that my worship won’t just be lyrics but a radical and extravagant love, not just songs but a total and extreme submission, and not just music but a way of life that speaks louder than any songs ever could.

 

In the Beginning

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“When all things began, the Word already was. The Word dwelt with God, and what God was, the Word was. The Word, then, was with God at the beginning, and through him all things came to be; no single thing was created without him. All that came to be was alive with his life, and that life was the light of men. The light shines on in the dark, and the darkness has never mastered it” (John 1:1-5).

To me, John 1 has to be among the greatest literary masterpieces of all time. I may be a bit biased, but I do think that the way John opens his gospel is perfect. Matthew and Mark start with the birth narrative, but John goes back further than that. Much further.

We see Jesus as the Word with God from the beginning. Jesus, the Word, was (and is) God.

Sometimes, you need a different translation to see a verse or a group of verses in a new light. Reading the same verses in the same translations can be like singing the same old hymns in the same old style for years and years. Eventually, you fall into rote memory and stop paying attention to the words.

That’s one of the reasons I chose the New English Bible as my translation of choice to read through the Bible for 2015. It’s different enough so that the words seem fresh again.

It’s not a perfect rendering, but that’s not the point. The point is to keep letting the Word of God speak to me and (hopefully) to never let it get stale for me.

The best way to keep the Bible from getting stale is to do what it says. Don’t just read it and praise it for being clever and witty, but actually put it into practice. That’s something that’s easy to tell someone else to do, but much harder to do yourself. I should know.

As of this time, my plan is to read the Holman Christian Standard Bible (otherwise known as the Hard Core Southern Baptist Bible) in 2016 and the New Jerusalem Bible in 2017. Of course, these plans are always subject to change.

 

 

Dar Williams and the Song in Your Heart

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According to Foursquare (an app on my iPhone), I hadn’t been to any concerts or movies at the Franklin Theatre since April. Until tonight.

I was in row D, seat 3 to hear one of my favorite singer-songwriters, Dar Williams, put on a great show. Even her opening act, Angel Snow, was fantastic. It was a good night.

Dar performed my two favorite songs of hers, “The One Who Knows” and “The Beauty of the Rain,” as well as several other gems. Her music always takes me to a peaceful place and her songs are most definitely an integral part of the ever-changing and ever-growing soundtrack to my life.

Jesus has been reminding me of the song in my own heart that I had begun to forget. Joy and thanksgiving, or eucharisteo, is my song and I’m thankful for friends and family who periodically remind me when I’ve forgotten the words or lost the melody.

I am one note in a living symphony of God’s love for the world He made. I may be only one small part, but without me, the symphony loses something. The same with you. The world around you needs to hear your own unique song and your small but vital part in God’s overture.

Let your life be the biggest hymn of praise that you sing. A hymn of thanksgiving, of hope restored, of dreams reborn, and of grace. Especially grace.

I will help to remind you of your song when you forget the words and root for you when your part in the Grand Symphony arrives. That’s what Church is for– to remind each other of the goodness of God and to love each other and God well. That’s a song the world around us has been dying to hear.

Simple Yet Profound

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I was skimming through the vast ocean of tweets on Twitter and I ran across one that was simple in its concept, yet the more I thought about it the more profound it seemed. I know Twitter is rarely profound, with 99.9% of my own tweets as proof. But I read this little statement and it grabbed hold of me and hasn’t let go since.

“What you behold you become.”

It’s not only profound, but intensely convicting, for it begs the question, “What am I beholding?” followed by the question, “Do I want to become that?”

Am I beholding what the world defines as love, success, contentment, and happiness? I’ve seen enough of reality TV to know that I’m watching a severely skewed version of reality. What passes for love is really lust, what passes for success is greed, what passes for contentment is selfishness, and what passes for happiness is blissful ignorance.

I’m reminded of a verse in 2 Corinthians. Side note: before you start thinking how super-spiritual I am, you should know I had to do a keyword search on biblegateway.com to find this verse.

“And we all, with unveiled face, beholding the glory of the Lord, are being transformed into the same image from one degree of glory to another. For this comes from the Lord who is the Spirit” (2 Corinthians 3:18).

Transformation happens when we behold the glory of God. When we turn our eyes upon Jesus and look full in his wonderful face, as the old hymn puts it. If you look at Jesus long enough, you can’t help but become like him.

But how much am I looking at Jesus as opposed to everything else there is to see? For me, not nearly enough for real and lasting transformation to take place. I’m too easily distracted by everything around me.

That’s what I need. To look at Jesus more and look in the mirror a little less. To look at God and how he sees me more and the world around me and how they perceive me a little less. That’s where real change for the better lies.

Redemption (It’s Never Too Late to Come Home)

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For my 50th blog, I wanted to talk about something close to my heart. That something is the subject of redemption. Especially since I and all those who trust in Christ have been redeemed.

Some definitions I found of the word redeem are: “1) to recover ownership of by paying a specified sum, 2) to pay off (a promissory note, for example), 3) to turn in (coupons, for example) and receive something in exchange, 4) to fulfill (a pledge, for example), 5). to convert into cash: redeem stocks, 6) to set free; rescue or ransom, 7) to save from a state of sinfulness and its consequences. 7)  to make up for: the low price of the clothes dryer redeems its lack of special features.8)  to restore the honor, worth, or reputation of.”

But it’s one thing to know about redemption in an academic sense and an entirely different notion to know experientially what it means to be redeemed. To know that Jesus can take something worthless and turn it into something priceless is cause by itself for worship. To know that no one is beyond His reach is cause for eternal devotion.

The thief on the cross proves that no one is ever a lost cause or a hopeless case. Not even in his dying moments was he too far gone to be saved. Such is the case for anyone in my life (or your life). No one is too depraved to be forgiven. There is no one who has left the path who can never come back.

If you are the one who has crossed every line and blown every chance, there”s still hope. You can never stray so far away that there is no way to get Home again. If you aren’t the one who has lost his or her way, but know someone who has, know that there is never a time to quit praying and reaching out and believing in faith for that person.

I love this quote from John Newton, who himself was a slave trader who was redeemed and became a great hymn writer and leader in the abolition movement in England. As he lay on his death bed, he said to a minister friend, ‎”True, I’m going on before you, but you’ll soon come after me. When you arrive, our friendship will no doubt cause you to inquire for me. But I can tell you already where you’ll most likely find me–I’ll be sitting at the feet of the thief whom Jesus saved in His dying moments on the cross!”

Remember it’s never too late to come Home. Even if you’ve lost your way, Jesus knows how to get you Home. After all, He is the Way. Don’t lose hope for that loved one. Even in his or her last breath, there’s still a chance for redemption.

As always, I believe. Help my unbelief.

He giveth more grace (featuring a surprise guest blogger!)

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Ok, not really. It’s still me, but I am including a bit of poetry (not mine) in this blog, because it so profoundly affected me when I heard it tonight at Kairos Roots. Here it is. May it affect you like it did me and make you more thankful and grateful to our great God! Here is her story and then her poem will follow (I copied and pasted her story. Shh! Don’t tell anyone!)

“Annie Flint was born in the Johnston home where she lost her mother, then shortly after lost her father too and was raised by the Flint family. After she graduated from college, she contracted arthritis in one of its most crippling forms and lay in bed for not one or two years, but for decades of her life. And if that wasn’t bad enough she lost control of her internal organs and to her utter embarrassment had to live on diapers for many years of her life. And if that wasn’t humiliating enough she began to become blind and cancer began to take its toll…according to one eyewitness, who wrote a book(called Making of the Beautiful), the last time he saw her, she had seven pillows cushioning her body from keeping the sores from inflicting indescribable agony.

In the midst of all that, she wrote this beautiful poem:

‘He giveth more grace when the burdens grow greater,
He sendeth more strength when the labors increase;
To added affliction He addeth His mercy;
To multiplied trials, His multiplied peace.

When we have exhausted our store of endurance,
When our strength has failed ere the day is half done,
When we reach the end of our hoarded resources,
Our Father’s full giving is only begun.

Fear not that thy need shall exceed His provision,
Our God ever yearns His resources to share;
Lean hard on the arm everlasting, availing;
The Father both thee and thy load will upbear.

His love has no limit; His grace has no measure.
His pow’r has no boundary known unto men;
For out of His infinite riches in Jesus,
He giveth, and giveth, and giveth again!'”

Annie Johnson Flint