The Christian Life in Hymns

Note: during college, one of my dorm-mate's dad wrote this, and gave us permission to share it and use it. I don't know his name, but want to give him the credit for this neat piece!

How to get a Soul Stirring from Songs and Hymns

Since Jesus Came into My Heart, I Love to tell the Story how I read in My Mother's Bible that Christ Receiveth Sinful Men.  

One Day, Love Lifted Me to Higher Ground and now I Know Whom I Believed and I Have Decided to Follow Jesus. I Surrender All, so I'll keep Living For Jesus and Follow On Where He Leads Me.

Since Now I Belong to Jesus, He is All I Need and I am Resolved to Bring Them In so that they also can kneel Beneath the Cross of Jesus and be Saved by the Blood, then experience what it's like to be Never Alone.


So together, let's Only Trust Him, have A Passion for Souls, and stay in The Service of the King. What a Day that Will Be when I will Praise Him, along with you, then He the Pearly Gates will Open and He Will Lead Me while we're Face to Face.

If I reach The Haven of Rest before you, Stand Up Stand up for Jesus, Look to the Lamb of God, keep Resting in His Promises, and Fight the Good Fight until Some Golden Daybreak We Gather Together Under His Wings, where we'll Praise the Savior while Dwelling in Beulah Land. Oh, What a Day That will Be!!

Hymn History: Have I Done My Best For Jesus?

Edward Spencer was a student at Northwestern University in Evanston, Illinois. He was a budding Olympic swimmer, the first to win a gold medal for the United States in the Olympics. He had the strength and potential to do much more as an Olympic swimmer, if it hadn’t been for that one fateful day.

Northwestern University sat on the banks of Lake Michigan, which is known for its sudden storms. Ed was studying in the library one day when he heard the news that a boat, the Lady Elgin had collided with another boat and was sinking. People were drowning, and nothing could be done because of the strong currents.

Ed ran from the library to the shores of the lake. He saw that the situation was indeed serious...people were floating in the icy waters, close enough to shore for their cries of help to be heard, but unable to swim to safety because of severe undertow.

Without a hesitation, Ed stripped himself of excess clothing and dove into the icy, rolling waves. He was able, with his olympic strength, to reach the first person and bring them to shore. He repeated this heroic act several more times before onlookers and friends began to say, “Ed, you’ve got to stop. You’ve done all you can. You’ll kill yourself if you keep going!” Ed did not hesitate. He replied, “I’ve got to do my best,” and plunged again into the water.

Ed rescued 17 people in 16 trips in that pitching, rolling storm. After the 16th trip he collapsed unconscious on the shore, unable to go on. He lay there repeating, “Have I done my best fellows? Have I done my best?” All night he battled for his life in the infirmary, continually repeating, “Have I done my best fellows? Have I done my best?”

Ed Spencer had done his best - but it cost him his health and his future as a champion swimmer. He lived the rest of his life as a semi-invalid in Phoenix, Arizona. It was there in a humble cottage that Ensign Edwin Young found him. Mr. Young had heard his story and heard that he could be found in Arizona, and so went looking for this hero. He found a man no longer a robust athlete, but a shadow of the strong man he once was.

During the course of their visit, Mr. Young commended him for his heroic action and asked how he had been recognized during his life by the people who’s lives he had saved that day. With tears streaming down the invalid’s cheeks, he replied, “Not one ever came back to even say thank you.”
It was the retelling of this story that led Ensign Edwin Young to write, “Have I Done My Best for Jesus?”

Despite the fact that none of the survivors recognized Ed Spencer’s heroic act, the students of the Northwestern University did not forget him. A large plaque in his honor hangs on a campus wall with this inscription:

To commemorate the heroic endeavors of Edward W. Spencer, 1st Northwestern student life saver. This tablet is erected by the class of 1898. At the wreck of the Lady Elgin, off Winnetka, Sept 8, 1860. Spencer swam through the heavy surf 16 times, rescuing 17 persons in all. In the delirium of exhaustion which followed, his oft-repeated question was: Did I do my best?”

I wonder have I done my best for Jesus,
Who died upon the cruel tree?
To think of His great sacrifice at Calvary!
I know my Lord expects the best from me.

How many are the lost that I have lifted?
How many are the chained I’ve helped to free?
I wonder, have I done my best for Jesus,
When He has done so much for me?

The hours that I have wasted are so many
The hours I’ve spent for Christ so few;
Because of all my lack of love for Jesus,
I wonder if His heart is breaking too.

I wonder have I cared enough for others,
Or have I let them die alone?
I might have helped a wand’rer to the Saviour,
The seed of precious Life I might have sown.

No longer will I stay within the valley
I’ll climb to mountain heights above;
The world is dying now for want of someone
To tell them of the Saviour’s matchless love.

How many are the lost that I have lifted?
How many are the chained I’ve helped to free?
I wonder, have I done my best for Jesus,
When He has done so much for me?

 

Hymn History: He Lives!

Alfred H. Ackley was born on January 21, 1887. His father, a Methodist preacher and musically gifted man, gave Alfred his foundation in music at an early age. Alfred went on to study harmony and composition in New York and London. His specialty was cello. Over time, he felt a call to preach and pastored for many years, but never stopped writing music and hymns.

One particular morning, Easter Sunday in 1932, Rev. Ackley was preparing for his services of the day. As he was shaving, he tuned in to the radio in time to hear a special Easter broadcast.

“Good morning!” The well-known liberal preacher began. “It’s Easter! You know folks, it really doesn’t make any difference to me if Christ be risen or not. As far as I am concerned His body could be as dust in some Palestinian tomb. The man thing is, His truth goes marching on!”

Rev. Ackley was furious. “It’s a lie!” he shouted at the radio set, forgetting that the speaker could not hear him.

Mrs. Ackley did hear him, however, and questioned, “Why are you shouting so early in the morning?”

“Didn’t you hear what that good-for-nothing preacher said?” he replied. “He said it didn’t matter whether Christ be risen or not!”

Rev. Ackley knew that the truth of the resurrection DID matter, as evidenced by a conversation he had had with a young Jewish man just a few weeks prior. “Why should I worship a dead Jew?” the young man asked; to which Rev. Ackley had replied, “That’s the whole point. He isn’t dead; He’s alive!”

Rev. Ackley, in telling the story later, said that he preached that Easter Sunday quite differently than he had ever preached before, but at the end of the day, still felt that he had not yet said everything he wanted to say!

His wife sized up the situation and said, “Listen here, Alfred Ackley, it’s time you did that which you can do best. Why don’t you write a song about it and then maybe you’ll feel better. You’ll have something that will go on telling the story.”

That very night, Rev. Alfred Ackley wrote out the words, and then composed the melody just as it appears in our hymnals today.


I serve a risen Saviour, He’s in the world today;
I know that He is living, whatever men may say;
I see His hand of mercy, I hear His voice of cheer,
And just the time I need Him, He’s always near.

In all the world around me I see His loving care,
And tho’ my heart grows weary I never will despair;
I know that He is leading thro’ all the stormy blast,
The day of His appearing will come at last.

Rejoice, rejoice, O Christian, lift up your voice and sing
Eternal hallelujahs to Jesus Christ the King!
The Hope of all who seek Him, the Help of all who find,
None other is so loving, so good and kind.

He lives, he lives Christ Jesus lives today!
He walks with me and talks with me along life’s narrow way.
He lives, He lives, salvation to impart!
You ask me how I know He lives? He lives within my heart!

Adapted from Music in the Air, Mark Ward Sr. and Al Smith’s Treasury of Hymn Histories

Hymn History: His Name Is Wonderful

Audrey Mieir was used by God to write this chorus that has become a favourite in the gospel field, and she tells the story of its writing this way:

“Christmas came on Sunday that year and for once His birth seemed more important to everyone than toys and presents. Fragrant pine boughs perfumed the air in our little Bethel Union Church in Duarte, California. A kind of hushed expectancy filled the place as ‘Silent Night, Holy Night’ swelled from the organ. All heads were bowed, eyes were closed, and an occasional tear rolled down a wrinkled cheek - remembering 50, 60, even 70 other Christmases, thankful for the love of God and family, their presents and His presence! Little children sat impatiently anticipating the re-creation of the old, old story - their eyes sparkling, reflecting Christmas tree lights, not wanting to miss anything including the Christmas play, afterward the dinner and presents which were stacked and waiting.

The curtain opened. There it was as it would be depicted countless times that day, the humble manger scene. Mary was a shy teenager, cheeks flushed with excitement, holding someone’s baby doll close in her arms. A young Joseph hovered over her, his smooth face discreetly hidden in old drapery. A beautiful angel glittered and shone, out-brillianced only by the flashing smile for mom and dad in aisle two. Her halo had slipped precariously to one side. Eleven-year-old shepherds shuffled down the aisle with unmistakable reticence, their jeans peeking out form under dad’s old robe.

The procession halted and the choir sang, “Sleep in heavenly peace.” Dr. Luther Mieir’s voice filled the small church - ‘His name is wonderful,’ he said with his hands lifted heavenward. And I - I heard the familiar rustling of angel wings. I did not know at that strangely moving moment that a once-in-a-lifetime experience was about to happen. As I grabbed my old Bible and wrote in it, more than with any other of my songs, I felt as if I were only a channel, as if I were not otherwise involved

God blessed ‘His Name Is Wonderful’ and it seemed to capture people’s hearts but one day I met Tim Spencer who said to me, ‘Audrey, it’s a good song but there just isn’t enough of it. Maybe you could write a bridge for it.’ he explained the word to me and showed me how I could extended the song and enlarge the blessing of its message. I was just on my way to lunch. After I had ordered my hamburger, I began to think of Tim’s suggestion and so I opened my Bible there in the booth to the concordance and began to run my finger down the list of names given to Jesus in the Scripture. I wrote them down on my napkin. After I had returned to the office, I went to the piano and finished the song.

At that moment, I did not foresee the ministry one little song of praise could have and that I would hear it sung all around the world. I heard it in Sweden, all through Korea, and the Philippines. Never shall I forget the thousands of students in Hong Kong lifting it heavenward from their roof top schools; nor hearing it sung in the Garden of Gethsemane - and experience that was truly ‘joy unspeakable!’”

God bless you, Audrey Mieir, and thank you for the immortal “His Name Is Wonderful!”

Adapted from Al Smith's Treasury of Hymn Histories

His Name is Wonderful,

His Name is Wonderful,

His Name is Wonderful,

Jesus my Lord.

He is the Mighty King

Master of everything,

His Name is Wonderful

Jesus my Lord.

He's the Great Shepherd

The Rock of all ages

Almighty God is He!

Bow down before Him

Love and adore Him

His Name is Wonderful,

Jesus my Lord.

Hymn History: Onward Christian Soldiers

The Rev. Sabine Baring-Gould was ordained as a clergyman of the Church of England in 1864. He must have been an interesting man, for he was not content to merely propose to his future bride, but he also performed the ceremony! It must have been quite an experience to hear the officiating minister ask himself, “Will you, Sabine, take this woman, Grace, to be your lawful wedded wife?” and then reply to himself, “I will.” Anyway, when the bride kissed the groom she was kissing the minister at the same time. Whether he took the fee out of his left pocket and deposited it in his right after the ceremony has never been determined.

Pentecost, the Sunday that comes fifty days after Easter, is knowing in England as Whitsunday, an abbreviation of White-Sunday, from the custom of wearing white on that occasion. The day following, Whitmonday, is a legal as well as a Church holiday. On Whitmonday, 1865, Rev. Baring-Gould had arranged an outing for the children of his parish, including a hike from his own Church to a nearby village. Knowing that children like to march, and also how difficult it is for their elders to keep them together unless they are marching, he asked his helpers to find a good marching hymn to help them keep order during the hike.

The helpers could find no such hymn. Since Rev. Baring-Gould had already written other hymns, several of the parishioners suggested that he write his own marching hymn.

Unperturbed, this thiry-one-year-old pastor did just that. With no thought of writing a hymn for a nation at war, little dreaming that his stanzas would ever be so misconstrued, and taking a theme from Haydn’s “Symphony in D” for his music, he dashed off five stanzas of this thrilling hymn.

Rev. Baring-Gould lived to the age of ninety and wrote over eighty-five books, but he is more often remembered for one of the most militant marching hymns in all Christendom.

An interesting note: both this hymn and another of Sabine Baring-Gould’s hymns are written in the same metrical pattern: 6.5.6.5.D. The first and third lines have six syllables; the second and fourth contain 5 syllables, with the whole pattern being doubled into a poem of eight lines.

Adapted from "Living Stories of Famous Hymns," Ernest K. Emurian

Hymn History: Lord, I'm Coming Home

Professor William H. Kirkpatrick had been writing Gospel music for many years, but perhaps no piece worked in such miraculous ways as the one he wrote in 1902.

Mr. Kirkpatrick was leading the music for a Methodist Camp Meeting near Philadelphia. God had given him reason to doubt the salvation of a certain soloist that had been chosen to help with the meeting. Each night, after singing his solo, the soloist would leave, never staying to listen to the message or participate in the fellowship of God’s people. Feeling burdened for this singer, Mr. Kirkpatrick began to pray for the working of the Holy Spirit in his heart.

Two days went by, and although the messages of the evangelists were stirring many people’s heart to decide for Christ, the singer failed to be moved. As Mr. Kirkpatrick continued to pray he questioned, “Will God ever hear my prayers?”

He was so burdened that he felt the Lord led him to perform a rather unusual plan. The Lord led him to write a special invitation song with the soloist in mind, and then have him sing it. He did this, and that very evening, the Lord worked. The soloist, instead of leaving directly as was his custom, stayed for the preaching after and was the first at the altar to accept Christ as Saviour. This new song that so worked in his heart was, “Lord, I’m Coming Home.”

George Sanville, a close friend of Mr. Kirkpatrick, tells the following interesting story about the Professor:

“The year was 1921. Kirk was at his desk in his study working on a poem which he would later put to music. Mrs. Kirkpatrick was tired and had retired for the night. She awakened sometime later and seeing that the light was still on in her husband’s study, she called to him, ‘Professor, it’s very late, don’t you think you had better come to bed?’ He replied, ‘I’m all right, dear, I have a little work I want to finish. Go back to sleep, everything is all right.’ Mrs. Kirkpatrick went to sleep, but when she awakened a second time and called, there was no response. She went to his study and found him sitting in his chair but leaning forward on his desk. Mr. Kirkpatrick had boarded the Heavenly Train for that continuing city of which he had so often written so beautifully.”

This is the poem that Mrs. Kirkpatrick found, so accurately depicting the life that the Professor lived dedicated to the Lord:

Just as Thou wilt, Lord, this is my cry
Just as Thou wilt, to live or die
I am Thy servant, Thou knowest best,
Just as Thou wilt, Lord labor or rest.

Just as Thou wilt, Lord, which shall it be?
Life everlasting waiting for me --
Or shall I tarry, here at Thy feet?
Just as Thou wilt, Lord, whatever is meet.

That was all. He left this life quietly, in full obedience of a complete surrender to the Will of God. “I will receive you unto Myself, that where I am, ye may be also.”

Adapted from Al Smith’s Treasury of Hymn Histories

I’ve wandered far away from God,

Now I’m coming home;

The paths of sin too long I’ve trod,

Lord, I’m coming home.

I’ve wasted many precious years,

Now I’m coming home;

I now repent with bitter tears,

Lord, I’m coming home.

I’m tired of sin and straying, Lord,

Now I’m coming home;

I’ll trust Thy love, believe Thy word,

Lord, I’m coming home.

My soul is sick, my heart is sore,

Now I’m coming home;

My strength renew, my home restore,

Lord, I’m coming home.

My only hope, my only plea,

Now I’m coming home;

That Jesus died, and died for me,

Lord, I’m coming home.

I need His cleansing blood I know,

Now I’m coming home;

Oh, wash me whiter than the snow,

Lord, I’m coming home.

Coming home, coming home,

Nevermore to roam;

Open wide Thine arms of love,

Lord, I’m coming home.

Hymn History: The Wonder of it All

Throughout the 1950’s, Billy Graham and his team had a profound impact in shaping and showcasing the Christian music of the day. Songs such as “To God Be the Glory” and “Great Is Thy Faithfulness” were popularized for the first time. George Beverly Shea, by a wide margin, became America’s best loved and most recorded gospel singer. And with the success of “I’d Rather Have Jesus,” he kept on writing more songs.

In 1955, when the crusades and the Hour of Decision radio outreach were at their height, Shea boarded the ocean liner S.S. United States en route to meetings in Scotland. A fellow passenger struck up a conversation and asked Shea about the typical program sequence at a Billy Graham crusade. Shea described how the meetings were conducted, but then, as he recalled, “I found myself at a loss for words when I tried to describe the responses that usually accompanied Mr. Graham’s invitations to become a Christian.” Turning to the other passenger, he exclaimed, “What happens then never becomes commonplace, watching people by the hundreds come forward. Oh, if you could just see the wonder of it all!”

As he mused over that thought later in the evening, Shea was inspired to rough out a melody and to write down the words of a song. In eight years traveling with Billy Graham, he had truly seen amazing things. Yet to Shea the most remarkable was not the adulation, the fame, or the immense public and media interest. Seeing men and women come to Christ was “The Wonder of It All.”

Adapted from “Music in the Air,” Mark Ward Sr.

There's the wonder of sunset at evening,
The wonder as sunrise I see;
But the wonder of wonders that thrills my soul
Is the wonder that God loves me.

There's the wonder of springtime and harvest,
The sky, the stars, the sun;
But the wonder of wonders that thrills my soul
Is a wonder that's only begun.

O, the wonder of it all! The wonder of it all!
Just to think that God loves me.
O, the wonder of it all! The wonder of it all!
Just to think that God loves me.

Hymn History: Does Jesus Care?

Does Jesus Care?

For two years of college, I was privileged to take piano lessons from a Godly lady named Sue Smith. She helped to shape and mold the pianist I am today more than anyone else, and I was truly blessed by her example in piano and in her walk with the Lord. I took a Hymnology class from her, and she shared this personal hymn history story with us:

“When my mother was a little girl, she attended a Methodist Church in Philadelphia, PA that was pastored by Frank E. Graeff. My mother did not remember him telling this story, but she DID remember HER mother relating this hymn story to her from their pastor.

Apparently, the Graeffs had a daughter who was a beautiful girl. She was a young lady at this time and as was the custom of the day, all girls and ladies wore floor-length dresses with many layers of lace or frills. Their homes were heated at that time with fireplaces or wood-burning stoves. One day, the daughter got too close to the fireplace, and her long skirt caught on fire. They frantically tried to save her, but the fire consumed her so rapidly, nothing could be done, and she was burned to death in the fire.

Pastor Graeff was overcome with grief, as you might imagine. As is the case with many Christians, he began to question if Jesus really cared about this tragedy that had engulfed their family. He began to write,

‘Does Jesus care, when I’ve said goodbye
To the dearest on earth to me?
And my sad heart aches till it nearly breaks-
Is it aught to Him? Does He see?’

Pastor Graeff then related that as He asked these questions and others of the Lord, he could almost hear the Lord answering audibly with a resounding voice…

‘Oh, YES, He cares! I know He cares,
His heart is touched with my grief;
When the days are weary, the long nights derary;
I know my Saviour cares.’ "

More verses followed:

‘Does Jesus care when my heart is pained
Too deeply for mirth and song;
As the burdens press, and the cares distress,
And the way grows weary and long?’

‘Does Jesus care when my way is dark
With a nameless dread and fear?
As the daylight fades into dep night shades,
Does he care enough to be near?’

‘Does Jesus care when I’ve tried and failed
To resist some temptation strong;
When for my deep grief I find no relief,
Though my tears flow all the night long?’

‘Oh, YES, He cares! I know He cares,
His heart is touched with my grief;
When the days are weary, the long nights derary;
I know my Saviour cares.’ "


I am so thankful that we now have these words to comfort us during time of affliction, even though the author had no idea what God was going to do during his time of grief. Certainly God knows best!

Why I Love being the Pianist for a Small Congregation

Last night, our church took our mid-week service to combine with another church 45 minutes away. This church is like a sister church to us, and just in the last couple months had a new pastor and his family move to the area. Being still in the throes of adjustment and change, we decided to be an encouragement to them and combine services, offering some added fellowship for an evening.

I can't begin to tell you what a blessing this was to all involved! Our church people went away feeling refreshed, and I believe that church family did as well. There is something so reassuring in talking to fellow Christians and knowing that there are others out there that stand for the same things as you. As good Baptists, we had a time of physical refreshment as well, ending the evening with sweets and coffee. :)

But what I got on here to tell you about was the fantastic time I had playing for the service. I am the pianist for our church, but the sister church does not currently have a pianist. It was a joy to sit down at their old upright (which was in surprisingly good tune, I might add) and bring out a few songs...something those walls have not heard in a while! It was a great feeling.

I have played for services of all sizes, from merely a dozen people to several hundred, and there is something to be said for them all. But here are a few reasons why I love playing for small crowds:

1. You don't have to be a fantastic piano player. 
I think those people last night thought that I was the best thing since sliced bread...which is simply not true! I enjoy playing, but I lack in so many areas. They were just so excited to have anyone play their piano! I could have been terrible and they might not have noticed. :) This doesn't give me any excuse for playing poorly, don't get me wrong...but it is nice to know that even my limited ability can be used in a mighty way.

2. Where numbers are lacking, you get to bridge the gap.
We took a couple dozen people from our church and joined about the same number at their church, so compared to some, this was an extremely small crowd.  We filled that church building, however, almost to capacity...and everyone sang heartily! The sound was awesome! I think they raised the roof a few times. ;) So even though the numbers were few, the simple strains of a piano really round out the music...and IMO, we sounded better than a 100-voice choir! Almost....

3. There isn't as much "pressure."
As I said before, these people wouldn't have cared if I played standing on my head, so long as there was music coming out of that piano. I didn't, of course. :) But it does take some of the pressure off. In a large church with an impressive orchestra or several other pianos following your lead, the tendency is to feel the need to "perform" instead of play from your heart! With a small crowd that is appreciative of your efforts, that mindset is taken off, and I could just enjoy playing and hearing them lift their voices in praise to God!

Although some would view such a small crowd, simple building and traditional hymns as a waste of time, I am so thankful for the opportunity I had to be a blessing, honor my God, and have loads of fun!

I would love to hear your thoughts on playing for large or small congregations: which do you prefer? What is your normal playing atmosphere? How do you handle the "pressure?"

Hymn History: The Love of God

Frederick M. Lehman was a California businessman that lost everything through business reverses. He was forced to spend his working hours in manual labor, working in a Pasadena packing house packing oranges and lemons into wooden crates. Not an ideal environment for writing love songs, but this was the environment the Lord chose to use.

Mr. Lehman was a Christian who rejoiced in his salvation. He was so moved by a Sunday evening sermon on the love of God that he could hardly sleep. The next morning, the thrill of the previous evening had not left him. As he drove to the packing house, the makings of a song began to come together in his head, with God’s love as the theme.

Throughout the day, as he packed oranges and lemons, the words continued to flow. Perhaps he jotted down words on various pieces of broken crate as he went along. He could hardly wait to get home and commit these words to paper.

Upon arriving home, he hurried to his old upright piano and began arranging the words and composing a melody to fit them. He soon had finished two stanzas and the melody to go along with them, but now what was he to do? In those days, a song had to have at least three stanzas to be considered complete. (A far cry from the songs of our day that only need have three words!) He tried and tried to come up with a third stanza, but to no avail. The words just would not fall into place.

It was then that he remembered a poem someone had given him some time before. Hunting around, he found the poem printed on a card, which he had used as a bookmark. As Mr. Lehman read the words, his heart was thrilled by the adequate picture of God’s love they pictured. He then noticed this writing on the bottom of the card:

“These words were found written on a cell wall in a prison some 200 years ago. It is not known why the prisoner was incarcerated; neither is it known if the words were original or if he had heard them somewhere and had decided to put them in a place where he could be reminded of the greatness of God’s love - whatever the circumstances, he wrote them on the wall of his prison cell. In due time, he died and the men who had the job of repainting his cell were impressed by the words. Before their paint brushes had obliterated them, one of the men jotted them down and thus they were preserved.”

Lehman went to the piano and began to voice the words with the melody he had just written. They were a perfect fit. It was a miracle! The song was published - and remains today - with these words as the last stanza.

In later years, the origin of these words became known to Alfred B. Smith, which reveals an even greater miracle in the writing of this song. The original third stanza was written in Hebrew around the year 1000 by Meir Ben Issac Nehoria, a Jewish Rabbi. God, knowing that Lehman was going to write a song, also realized that Lehman would have trouble writing a third stanza and so He chose this Rabbi, who though not accepting Christ as the Messiah did possess the skills to graphically paint a picture of God’s love in words. He would preserve these words and then hundreds of years later He would have them translated by this prisoner into a language that did not as yet exist, namely English.

And to think, He did it in the exact meter to fit Lehman’s melody!

Adapted from  Al Smith’s Treasury of Hymn Histories

(My note: Because of this miraculous story and the vastness of God’s love that the words present, the third stanza is my favorite! Just listen to these words…)

Could we with ink the ocean fill
And were the skies of parchment made,
Were every stalk on earth a quill
And every man a scribe by trade,

To write the love of God above
Would drain the ocean dry,
Nor could the scroll contain the whole
Tho stretched from sky to sky.

O love of God, how rich and pure!
How measureless and strong!
It shall forevermore endure
The saints and angel’s song.

 

 

Hymn History: Just As I Am

The year was 1822. Charlotte Elliott was mad at herself, her family, and God. At thirty-three, when she should have been enjoying radiant health, she had become an invalid because of the strain of a musical and artistic education. “If God loved me,” she complained, “he would not have treated me this way.”

This rebellious spirit not only poisoned her heart but put a strain on the life of the entire family. It was to try and mellow the soul of his talented daughter that her father, Charles Elliot, invited Dr. Cesar Malan, noted Swiss minister and musician, to be a guest in their home in England. Dr. Malan, who was called “the greatest name in the history of French hymnology,” was seated at the dinner table with members of the Elliott family when Charlotte broke out in one of her typical emotional outbursts. She condemned God for His cruelty to her, and criticized her brother, sister and father for their lack of sympathy. Her father, embarrassed at her lack of respect for their distinguished guest, excused himself and left the room with his other children.

Dr. Malan watched Charlotte from across the table. After a few tense moments of silence, he said, “You are tired of yourself, aren’t you?”

“What do you mean?” she asked angrily.

“You are holding to your hate and anger because you have nothing else in the world to cling to,” he replied. “consequently, you have become sour, bitter and resentful.”

“What is your cure?” she asked.

He said, “You need the faith you are trying to despise.”

Charlotte soon unburdened herself to the understanding heart, releasing the pent-up feelings she had been struggling to conceal for many years. Dr. Malan explained how God, as we know Him in Jesus, could help her find peace for her soul as well as her mind and body. Suddenly she saw herself as God knew her and was ashamed.

“Dr. Malan,” she said, “I want to apologize for my disrespectful behavior during dinner and I want to ask your forgiveness. Also I want your advice. If I wanted to become a Christian and to share the peace and joy you possess, what would I do? How would I go about it?”

“You would give yourself to God just as you are now,” he explained, “with your fightings and fears, hates and loves, jealousies and quick temper, pride and shame, and He would take them from you in proportion to faith, and put His great love in their place.”

“Just as you are now,” she repeated, and then added, “I would come to God just as I am. Is that right?”

“Exactly,” he replied, “Praying this prayer, ‘O God, I come to you just as I am, to be made over by you and to be used by you for your glory and your Kingdom.’”

Fourteen years later, on the anniversary of that conversation, Charlotte, soon to be lovingly called “The Sunbeam of Brighton,” received her annual letter from Dr. Malan. Reminiscing over the events of that meeting, and the wonderful change that had come over her life, she recalled his words, “Come just as you are,” and her reply, “Just as I am, I come.” Now forty-seven, Charlotte penned her spiritual autobiography in a seven-stanza poem which began:
Just as I am, without one plea, But that thy blood was shed for me,
And that thou bidd’st me come to thee, O Lamb of God, I come.

Her brother later remarked, “In all my preaching I have not done so much good as my sister has been permitted to accomplish by her one hymn ‘Just as I Am.’”

She passed away in her eighty-second year, in 1871, “in the full hope and triumph of the Gospel she had sung so long.”

Adapted from Living Stories of Famous Hymns, Ernest K. Emurian

Hymn History - Jesus Calls Us

Jesus Calls Us

Miss Cecil Humphreys was just 21 years old when her first book was published. Entitled "Verses for Holy Seasons," it contained a hymn or poem for each Sunday of the year, with special verses on holidays and special occasions. Written as a result of Miss Humphreys reading of "The Christian Year" by Rev. John Keble, it has been called "A Christian Year for Children."

In one of her Sunday School classes, her students were puzzled about the meaning of some of the words in the Apostles Creed. Unable to adequately explain to them in their terminology, she resorted to making her teaching in poetic form. For the first phrase, "I believe in God the Father Almighty," she wrote, "All Things Bright and Beautiful." For "Born of the Virgin Mary" she wrote, "Once in Royal David's City." And to explain the meaning of the death of Jesus who was crucified and buried, she wrote, "There is a Green Hill far Away." In 1848, the year she was married, she published her second book, "Hymns for Little Children," which included the songs inspired by the Creed.

One afternoon in 1852, her husband, Rev. William Alexander, found her writing a poem as a result of the sermon he had preached the Sunday before. He had preached on the burial of Moses, and she had been so inspired by the message that she wrote these words:

By Nebo's lonely mountain, On this side Jordan's wave,

In a vale in the land of Moab, There lies a lonely grave.

But no man built that sepulcher, And no man saw it e're;

For the angels of God upturned the sod, And laid he dead man there.

Her husband was so moved by these gripping words, that he asked her to write a poem for his sermon coming that Sunday. He was going to speak on the calling of Andrew by Jesus in Mark 1:16-18. After reading the passage through, Mrs. Alexander wrote these words:

Jesus calls us o'er the tumult, Of our life's wild, restless sea;

Day by day His sweet voice soundeth, Saying Christian follow me!

By her death in 1895 Mrs. Alexander had written over four hundred hymns and poems. Over a quarter million copies of “Hymns for Little Children" was sold, but nothing ever received the attention that her song, "Jesus Calls Us," has received.

~Ernest K. Emurian, "Living Stories of Famous Hymns"

Jesus calls us o’er the tumult
Of our life’s wild, restless, sea;
Day by day His sweet voice soundeth,
Saying, “Christian, follow Me!”
Jesus calls us from the worship
Of the vain world’s golden store,
From each idol that would keep us,
Saying, “Christian, love Me more!”
In our joys and in our sorrows,
Days of toil and hours of ease,
Still He calls, in cares and pleasures,
“Christian, love Me more than these!”
Jesus calls us! By Thy mercies,
Savior, may we hear Thy call,
Give our hearts to Thine obedience,
Serve and love Thee best of all.

Source: Lyrics

Hymn History - He Leadeth Me

He Leadeth Me

On April 29th, 1834, Joseph Gilmore was born in Boston, Massachusetts. His father was the governor of New Hampshire. Joseph received his education at the Phillips Academy in Andover, Massachusetts. His higher learning was received at Brown University and Newton Theological Seminary. He had the knowledge and speaking ability to become a politician, but God called him into the ministry. After his ordination, he worked as his father’s secretary for a while.

In 1862 he was a guest speaker at the First Baptist Church of Philadelphia. That Wednesday night he spoke on Psalm 23, majoring on the phrase, “He leadeth me beside the still waters.” Because the Civil War was going on, this subject was dear to the hearts of many people, including his own.

After the service, he and his wife went to the home of Deacon Watson, who lived next to the church. They talked for many hours about the message that night and the subject of the leadership of God. As they talked he took out a pen and paper and began to write. Before the night was over, he had written all the verses of this song. He handed them to his wife and promptly forgot about them.

Three years passed. One night he had a speaking engagement at the Second Baptist Church of Rochester, New York, to candidate for a possible pastorate there. Their hymnal was one that was foreign to him, so upon entering the auditorium, he picked it up to see what kind of songs were in it. To his astonishment, the first song his eyes fell on was his own, written in the home of Deacon Watson. Unbeknownst to him, his wife had sent it to “The Watchman and Reflector,” a paper published in Boston. William Bradbury had set the words to music and put them in a hymnal.

In 1926, the church and Deacon Watson’s home were torn down, and an office building for the United Gas Improvement Company was put in its place. On the front of the building is a bronze tablet paying tribute to Joseph Gilmore. The inscription begins with the first stanza of Joseph Gilmore’s song:

He leadeth me! O blessed thought!

O words with heavenly comfort fraught!

What e’re I do, where e’re I be,

Still ‘tis God’s hand that leadeth me.

~Lindsay Terry’s Musical Memories

Hymn History - Come Thou Fount

Come Thou Fount

The year was 1773. A group of boys from one of the local gangs had cornered a poor gipsy woman and were drowning her in liquor. They were determined to get her to the place that she was so drunk that she would tell them their fortunes for free. Turning to one in the circle of young men, she told him that evil fortune awaited him. “She’s drunk, she doesn’t know what she’s saying.”

She then turned to young Robert Robinson, and told him, “You will live to see your children and grandchildren.” Robinson suddenly paled and said, “You are right, she doesn’t know what she is saying. Lets get out of here.”

Although he tried to act unconcerned, Robinson was haunted for the rest of the day. He could not get the gypsy woman out of his head. What she had said had scared him. If he was going to live to see his children and grandchildren, he was going to have to change his lifestyle. So that very night, he suggested to his pals that they go to a local revival meeting, on the pretense of making fun of the preacher. The preacher that night was George Whitfield. He preached from Matthew 3:7, and it deeply affected Robinson. He felt that the preacher was speaking directly to him. Over 2 years passed, however, before he accepted Christ as his Saviour.

After his conversion, Robinson joined the Methodist church, and soon after was called to preach. He was appointed by John Wesley to the Calvinist Methodist Chapel in Norfolk, England. Three years after his salvation, to celebrate Pentecost, He penned his spiritual autobiography in this song.

The second verse reads, “Here I raise my Ebenezer, hither by thy help I’m come.” This phrase was taken from the book of I Samuel, in which Samuel raised up a stone after a battle fought with the Philistines. He called it “Ebenezer,” saying, “Hitherto hath the Lord helped us.”

Although he wrote many other hymns, “Come Thou Fount” remained the best-loved and most well-known. He died in 1790, at the age of 55, just as he always wished to, “soft suddenly, and alone.”

Come, Thou Fount of every blessing,

Tune my heart to sing Thy grace;

Streams of mercy, never ceasing,

Call for songs of loudest praise.

Teach me some melodious sonnet,

Sung by flaming tongues above.

Praise the mount! I’m fixed upon it,

Mount of Thy redeeming love.

Sorrowing I shall be in spirit,

Till released from flesh and sin,

Yet from what I do inherit,

Here Thy praises I’ll begin;

Here I raise my Ebenezer;

Here by Thy great help I’ve come;

And I hope, by Thy good pleasure,

Safely to arrive at home.

Jesus sought me when a stranger,

Wandering from the fold of God;

He, to rescue me from danger,

Interposed His precious blood;

How His kindness yet pursues me

Mortal tongue can never tell,

Clothed in flesh, till death shall loose me

I cannot proclaim it well.

O to grace how great a debtor

Daily I’m constrained to be!

Let Thy goodness, like a fetter,

Bind my wandering heart to Thee.

Prone to wander, Lord, I feel it,

Prone to leave the God I love;

Here’s my heart, O take and seal it,

Seal it for Thy courts above.

O that day when freed from sinning,

I shall see Thy lovely face;

Clothed then in blood washed linen

How I’ll sing Thy sovereign grace;

Come, my Lord, no longer tarry,

Take my ransomed soul away;

Send thine angels now to carry

Me to realms of endless day.

~Ernest K. Emurian, Living Stories of Famous Hymns

Hymn History - The Ninety and Nine

The Ninety And Nine

D.L. Moody and Ira Sankey were holding one of their famous meetings in the British Isles in 1874. They were on their way to Edinburgh, after being in Glasgow. Mr. Moody was engrossed in reading and answering his mail, and Mr. Sankey got bored. He bought a newspaper and began to read the latest American news. It was while reading this paper that he came across a poem that changed his day.

In a corner of the paper was a poem entitled the Ninety and Nine. Mr. Sankey read it and was so thrilled by it that he exclaimed to Mr. Moody, “This is just what I have been looking for, a shepherd’s hymn.” Mr. Moody was so engrossed in his mail that he didn’t even acknowledge Mr. Sankey’s statement. He dropped the subject, but not before he tore the poem out of the paper.

During that week of meetings, Dr. Horatius Bonar was asked to participate with Mr. Moody in the meeting. He spoke on the subject of the good shepherd. Mr. Sankey knew that he would be called upon to sing the invitation hymn at the end of the message. He was accustomed to picking a hymn that would correspond with the message preached, sometimes using hymns that he had written. He was puzzled for a while as to what song to sing. Although he knew hundreds of hymns, he could not come up with an appropriate one for this message. Some titles came to mind, so he searched his pockets for a scrap of paper to write them on. While searching for paper, his fingers felt the poem he had torn out of the paper a few days earlier. He was later to say, “A voice seemed to say to me, ‘Sing that hymn.’ ‘But I have no music,’ I replied. But again the voice insisted, ‘Sing that hymn!’ It was then that I heard Mr. Moody say, ‘And now Mr. Sankey will sing.’ I arose, went over and sat down at the organ. As I touched the keys, there came to me, note by note, the tune as it is sung today. I must admit that as I finished the first stanza I wondered if the melody would stay with me for the remaining stanzas, but God was good. Nothing changed, not a single note. When I had finished, Mr. Moody came and leaned over the little organ. I could see tears in his eyes and I heard him say, ‘Where in the world did you get that?’ At the moment I could not reply for to me, also, it had been an unusual experience.”

For some time the writer of that poem was not known. It was several years later that it was found that it had been written by 21-year-old Elizabeth Clephane, and also that she had died a couple years before it was printed. She was the daughter of a sheriff and a devoted Christian. She had a prodigal brother who she prayed for constantly and about whom she wrote the poem. We do not have any account of the brother ever coming to repentance.

--Al Smith’s “Hymn Histories”

There were ninety and nine that safely lay

In the shelter of the fold.

But one was out on the hills away,

Far off from the gates of gold.

Away on the mountains wild and bare.

Away from the tender Shepherd’s care.

Away from the tender Shepherd’s care.

“Lord, Thou hast here Thy ninety and nine;

Are they not enough for Thee?”

But the Shepherd made answer: “This of Mine

Has wandered away from Me;

And although the road be rough and steep,

I go to the desert to find My sheep,

I go to the desert to find My sheep.”

But none of the ransomed ever knew

How deep were the waters crossed;

Nor how dark was the night the Lord passed through

Ere He found His sheep that was lost.

Out in the desert He heard its cry,

Sick and helpless and ready to die;

Sick and helpless and ready to die.

“Lord, whence are those blood drops all the way

That mark out the mountain’s track?”

“They were shed for one who had gone astray

Ere the Shepherd could bring him back.”

“Lord, whence are Thy hands so rent and torn?”

“They are pierced tonight by many a thorn;

They are pierced tonight by many a thorn.”

And all through the mountains, thunder riven

And up from the rocky steep,

There arose a glad cry to the gate of Heaven,

“Rejoice! I have found My sheep!”

And the angels echoed around the throne,

“Rejoice, for the Lord brings back His own!

Rejoice, for the Lord brings back His own!

Hymn History: I am Bound For the Promised Land

Samuel Stennett wrote the words for this song, and originally titled it, “Heaven Anticipated.” When he wrote it he had no idea that these words would comfort a dying man. But God used these words to work in a young spy’s heart.

Sam Davis joined the Confederate army when he was a student at Nashville. He was such a good soldier that he was selected to be part of the elite group of spies named “Coleman’s Scouts.” He proved to be a great undercover agent.

In 1863, Sam was thrown in jail in Tennessee. He had papers and maps under his saddle that proved that he was a spy. The captors promised to set him free if he would just identify the “Coleman’s Scouts,” and Coleman himself. Of course, Sam refused.

He was immediately sentenced to death. Private C. B. Van Pelt read his sentence to him. Van Pelt was later to say, “A reprieve was extended which I also read to him, if he would inform us as to where ‘Coleman’ was. He stood before me, an uncrowned hero, his eyes flashing, and he said, ‘I will die a thousand deaths rather than betray my friends.’ We were both moved to tears and remained silent for a time.”

What these men did not know was that ‘Coleman’ was really Dr. H. B. Shaw, who was at that moment in an adjacent cell and was later released. How ironic that this man lived, but one of his most faithful spies had to die.

The night before his execution, Sam wrote to his mother, “Oh how painful it is to write you! I have to die tomorrow morning – to be hanged by the Federals. Mother, do not grieve for me. I must bid you good-bye forevermore.”

The day before the hanging a chaplain by the name of James Young spent the day with Sam, praying and praising the Lord. That evening they held a small worship service. Sam requested them to sing, “On Jordan’s Stormy Banks.” Those present said they would never forget the sound of Sam’s voice as he sang, “I am bound for the Promised Land, I am bound for the Promised Land.”

There is a monument in honor of Sam Davis on the lawn of the Tennessee State Capitol. On the monument are these words inscribed: “Greater love hath no man than this, that a man lay down his life for his friends.” (John 15:13)

~http://chi.gospelcom.net

Hymn History: God Moves in a Mysterious Way

When I was in college, I took a class called Hymnology. I enjoyed that class, and one of the assignments was every week I had to turn in a hymn history story. I thought I would share some of those stories on here for you. This is the first one:

God Moves in a Mysterious Way

It was a dark night in 1774. A carriage driver stopped at a house on the side of the road to pick up a man who was obviously distressed." Take me to the river, driver," he instructed. The driver was confused. "The river? Where? And why?" The man answered, "Anywhere along the river bank. God has ordered me to take my own life, and I prefer to drown myself rather than hang myself."

The passenger in the carriage was William Cowper (pronounced “cooper”), a forty-three year old man who spent the last twenty-five years of his life convinced that "God was determined to betray him at every turn in this life and to torture him eternally in the next." A series of events led to this mental instability. His mother died when he was six years old, leaving him in quite a state of shock. He was enrolled in an English Boarding School while still very young, and was subjected to much ill-treatment at the hands of the older boys. He was mauled and mistreated so badly this could have been a cause of his insanity later in life.

When he was twenty- one he entered the legal profession, but the strain put on him when he was to be examined for a job caused the first of many mental breakdowns. He tried to commit suicide many times, but never succeeded. He bought poison, but couldn't take it; he bought a large knife, but didn't have the courage to send it to his heart. He attempted to hang himself, but the garter broke. After these attempts he was put in an asylum, where his fears that God "had it in for him" only grew.

When he was thirty-three, through a visit from a brother, he regained his senses for a time and came to the saving knowledge of Jesus Christ. This led to his writing, "0 For a Closer Walk With God." Soon after, his only romance was ended almost before it began. Only his close friend John Newton kept him from taking his life.

It was at a similarly low point in his life spiritually that he ordered the carriage driver to take him to the river so he could drown himself. The carriage driver was confused. "Did you say God ordered you to take your own life?" he asked. "Yes, Mr. Cowper answered, "God hates me. You see, I am not one of God's elect. And because I have not been elected to salvation I am to be eternally damned. And as my punishment God has ordered me to slay myself."

The carriage driver realized that his passenger was not in a right state of mind. Providentially, at this moment when he was trying to decide what to do with his passenger, a dense fog rolled in, so that it was impossible to see where he was going. He purposefully "lost" his way in the fog, driving up one street and down another until he realized that his passenger was asleep. He stopped in front of the house where he had picked up Mr. Cowper. "Here we are, sir."

Mr. Cowper woke from his sleep. "We are back home. How is that?" he asked. The driver answered, "Got lost in the fog, sir. Sorry." Mr. Cowper was confused. "Where did I tell you to go?" he questioned. The driver had to answer, "To the river, sir, so you could drown yourself, because you said that God told you to." "Then thank God for sparing me," was his reply. “God be thanked for having overruled my foolish designs. I must have been in one of my melancholic moods, but I'm all right now, thanks to His great mercy." That same evening, reflecting upon his narrow escape from death, He wrote these words in his autobiographical hymn:

"God moves in a mysterious way, His wonders to perform;

He plants His footsteps in the sea, And rides upon the storm."

--Ernest K. Emurian, "Living Stories of Famous Hymns"