It Is Well with my Soul -- Reprise

It has been hectic, so I’m reposting a hymn … one of my favorites.
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It Is Well With My Soul
Horatio Spafford

When peace, like a river, attendeth my way,
When sorrows like sea billows roll -
Whatever my lot, Thou hast taught me to say,
It is well, it is well with my soul.

Tho' Satan should buffet, tho' trials should come,
Let this blest assurance control,
That Christ hath regarded my helpless estate,
And has shed His own blood for my soul.

My sin - O the bliss of this glorious tho't -
My sin, not in part, but the whole,
Is nailed to the cross, and I bear it no more:
Praise the Lord, praise the Lord, O my soul!

And, Lord, haste the day when my faith shall be sight,
The clouds be rolled back as a scroll:
The trump shall resound and the Lord shall descend,
"Even so" - it is well with my soul.

The hymn has quite a story behind it. Perhaps by understanding some of the events surrounding it, the meaning will be clearer. Horatio Spafford was a lawyer in Chicago in 1871 when the Chicago Fire destroyed his lakeshore real estate and his finances along with it. Having already lost a son to premature death, He decided to take his wife and four daughters on a trip to England to join D.L. Moody on one of their campaigns and to get some much needed rest. Business forced him to delay his departure, so he had his family go on ahead, intending to join them as soon as he could. Soon Spafford received word that the ship had sunk. He waited anxiously for word of survivors and finally received a telegram from his wife that read "Saved alone." Spafford hastened to join her in England, and as he sailed past the spot where his four daughters had drowned, he wrote, "When peace, like a river, attendeth my way, when sorrows like sea billows roll - whatever my lot, Thou hast taught me to say, ‘It is well, it is well with my soul.’"

Horatio Spafford knew God. It could only be an abiding relationship with the Almighty that would enable a man enduring such loss to say, "It is well with my soul." He echoes the words of Paul who says, "I have learned to be content." (Phil. 4:11-13)

What did Spafford know of God that held him in such peace? His second verse tells us. "Let this blest assurance control, that Christ hath regarded my helpless estate and has shed His own blood for my soul." To him, knowing that God loved him enough to die for him was enough. God had no requirement to do so, and the cost to Him was great - His own blood. What greater love could there be?

I think Mr. Spafford tied greater weight to his sin condition than most of us do today. He saw the forgiven state of the Christian as enough from God. His third verse dwells on the bliss of that thought. He saw forgiveness as glorious, and complete. He regarded God's pardon as the end of the question, with sin no longer a concern. "Not in part, but the whole." Paul says the same. We are crucified to sin. "Do not let sin reign." (Rom. 6:12) Praise the Lord, O my soul!

So many Christians today struggle with sin. They see their shortcomings - which are real - as an obstacle to their relationship with God. There is even a sort of superstition mixed in, as if God will curse us if we sin but bless us if we don't. They see God as turning away when they fail Him, and in some cases their large numbers of failures amass such a perceived wall between themselves and the Almighty that they give up and walk away hopeless. But sin - "not in part, but the whole" - has been nailed to the cross. We bear it no more. It is forgiven, past, present, and future. God sees us as clothed in the righteousness of Christ. He stands ready to commune with us at all times. We need merely to confess, for our benefit, our failure to obey, and we can continue the relationship. Would that we saw our sin condition and its collapse at the cross in the same light as this hymn does.

Like so many of the hymn writers of the past, Spafford looked forward to the coming of the Lord. He longed to be home. While many today aren't sure they want Christ to return just yet, he asked that God "haste the day." When all is said, it is there that peace is finally ours. It is in the knowledge of the transcendent God, the God who is holy and just, who is able to make all things right, the soon and coming King, that we can ultimately rest. His faithfulness is our repose. And His return is our hope. As the hymn alludes, "even so, come quickly." It is God's presence that brings final peace.

We, too, can enjoy this response to difficult circumstances. We can learn, with Paul, to be content in all situations. The truth is simple. If we know the God we serve, "who can be against us?" If God is God (and we are not), what more can we require? We can agree with Spafford and say, "Whatever my lot, Thou hast taught me to say, it is well, it is well with my soul."

'Tis So Sweet to Trust in Jesus

'Tis so sweet to trust in Jesus,
and to take him at His word;
just to rest upon His promise,
and to know, "Thus saith the Lord."

Refrain:
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;
and in simple faith to plunge me
'neath the healing, cleansing flood! [Refrain]

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. [Refrain]

Written by Louisa M. R. Stead in 1882, this favorite and simple hymn speaks of the sweetness of trusting Jesus. Mrs. Stead knew something about trusting Jesus. She had felt called to the mission field since her youth, but her health prevented her from going. She married in 1875 and then tragically lost her husband who, on a family picnic at the Long Island shore, drowned trying to rescue a boy in the water. Louisa went to South Africa to be a missionary. She and her new husband returned to America after some years to recover from her failing health, but they returned again to Africa -- this time Rhodesia (now Zimbabwe). From there she wrote back to America,

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

Louisa ultimately died there in 1917. Her daughter married a missionary and served in the mission field as well. All of this -- the drive to serve, the pain of catastrophic loss, the serving under serious health problems -- all lay on top of this singular thought: "'Tis so sweet to trust in Jesus." Her life reflected her trust in Him.

The verses offer powerful points of trusting Jesus. There is His Word, where the simple "Thus saith the Lord" proved sufficient to rest in it. There is His blood, in which she could have release from sin, spiritual healing and cleansing. There is His presence that sanctifies and gives life, rest, joy, and peace. All that is necessary for life, then, can be found in trusting Jesus.

In the refrain she makes two critical points. First, her faith isn't blind. Her trust isn't credulity. She trusted Him to begin with, but after time she proved Him. Hers was a trust from experience. "How I've proved Him o'er and o'er." It is the blessed faith of a saint a little farther down the road. Can I trust Him? Yes, because He has always proven trustworthy. The second point, however, is often missed. Mrs. Stead trusted Jesus for all the essentials of life because He was ultimately trustworthy, but she had a secret. She did not see her faith in Christ as something she mustered up. No. She prayed, "O for grace to trust Him more!" You see, she saw her faith in Christ as a gift, a matter of grace.

In this is faith's critical secret. Louisa trusted Christ through bad health and the tragic loss of her husband and the father of her daughter and through serving in far-flung places. She called it "sweet". Sweet? Really? It is things like this that cause others to give up on God entirely. The difficult parts of life lead others to conclude there is no God. How could she call it "sweet"? It is because she didn't drum up this faith herself. She wasn't counting on her own capacity to trust Him. She was given a measure of faith (Rom 12:3). And she echoed the prayer of the father asking Jesus to heal his child, "I believe; help my unbelief!" (Mark 9:24)

It ought to be our praise: "'Tis so sweet to trust in Jesus; I've proved Him o'er and o'er." It ought to be our prayer: "O, for grace to trust Him more." It is certainly her legacy to her daughter and to us.

Good Friday, 2015

It's Good Friday, an ironic term given the fact that's it's the day that every year commemorates the day humans executed the Son of God. But, hey, it is good because (whether or not Jesus actually died on a Friday) this is the day that Christ died for our sins. This is our annual reminder that Christ died for your sins.

Maybe we need more than a once-a-year reminder. A common subject in hymns is the cross. Perhaps my reference material isn't comprehensive enough, but I found a profound lack of choruses and praise songs with the cross as the central issue. The question of "why?" can be inconclusive and alarming. The fact remains that the cross is as much a central theme in Scripture as it is in hymns; in fact, more so. Paul said, "We preach Christ crucified." (1 Cor 1:23) He told the Corinthians, "I determined to know nothing among you except Christ and Him crucified." (1 Cor 2:2) We are to live all of life with a view to the cross (Heb 12:2). The daily operation of the Christian life is the taking up of one's cross (Matt 10:38; 16:24; Mark 8:34; Luke 9:23; 14:27). It is at the cross that we learn how to love (Eph 5:25; Rom 5:8) and how to view trials (Rom 8:17,18; Phil 3:10; Heb 5:8; 1 Peter 4:1,13).

The hymns join in this theme with vigor. "How Great Thou Art" devotes an entire stanza in awe of the cross.

And when I think that God, His Son not sparing,
Sent Him to die, I scarce can take it in;
That on the cross, my burden gladly bearing,
He bled and died to take away my sin.

Isaac Watts spends his entire time "At the Cross" recognizing the unfathomable wonder of what occurred there for us:

Alas, and did my Savior bleed, and did my Sovereign die?
Would He devote that sacred head for such a worm as I?

Was it for crimes that I have done He suffered on that tree?
Amazing pity! Grace unknown! And love beyond degree!

Another Watts hymn, "When I Survey the Wondrous Cross," puts all of life in perspective through the filter of Christ's sacrifice:

When I survey the wondrous cross on which the Prince of glory died,
My richest gain I count but loss and pour contempt on all my pride.

Forbid it Lord that I should boast save in the death of Christ my God.
All the vain things that charm me most I sacrifice them to His blood.

See from His head, His hands, His feet, sorrow and love flow mingled down.
Did e'er such love and sorrow meet, or thorns compose so rich a crown?

Were the whole realm of nature mine, that were a present far too small.
Love so amazing, so divine, demands my life, my soul, my all.

Toplady's "Rock of Ages" is the argument based on salvation by the blood alone. His main point: "In my hand no price I bring. Simply to Thy cross I cling." Elizabeth Clephane takes the argument a step further, claiming that the cross is the place we should be living. "Beneath the cross of Jesus I fain would take my stand," she says, and goes on to explain why. Further, she urges us to remain focused there by telling what she sees:

Upon that cross of Jesus, mine eye can sometimes see
The very dying form of One who suffered there for me;
And from my smitten heart with tears two wonders I confess--
The wonders of His glorious love and my own worthlessness.

Perhaps this is why we avoid the cross in our songs today. While we certainly enjoy the concept of God's love, we don't like the concept of sin. Self-esteem may be damaged. Guilt might be imparted. Our fragile egos can't stand the stress. And a look at the cross certainly produces stress when we see the need. God required DEATH because of my sin.

We won't accept that. We nod our heads and agree, but we don't really believe it. We stand, with fists raised, and defy God to prove our guilt. "I'm just not that bad, God," we protest loudly. "I haven't killed anyone ... if you leave out that 'hating your brother is murder' stuff. I'm no sex offender ... as long as you leave the 'lust equals adultery' thing out of it. I don't worship other gods ... let's not talk about the idolatry of greed." And we glibly compare ourselves among ourselves and stand firm on our conviction that we're not that bad. But the truth is the standard is God and His perfection, and we are sinners from the inside out. We have all but blotted out the image of God in us and replaced it with the arrogant Self.

The cross was costly. It showed the great extent to which God would go to save worthless ones like us. It demonstrated love toward the unlovable. Its horror graphically illustrated the horror of our sin and the depths of our depravity, contrasting us with the perfection that was Jesus Christ. It is only when we see this, only when we realize this, that we can grasp the cross with both hands, cling to it quite literally, for dear life.

Beyond that, living in the shadow of the cross is the sole place to abide:

I take, O cross, thy shadow for my abiding place -
I ask no other sunshine than the sunshine of His face;
Content to let the world go by, to know no gain nor loss,
My sinful self my only shame, my glory all the cross. (Gal 6:14)

"O Sacred Head, Now Wounded," taken from a much longer seven-part medieval poem, devotes its entire text to Christ's head as He suffered on the cross:

O Sacred Head, now wounded, with grief and shame weighed down,
Now scornfully surrounded with thorns Thy only crown,
How art Thou pale with anguish, with sore abuse and scorn!
How does that visage languish which once was bright as morn!

What Thou, my Lord, hast suffered was all for sinners' gain;
Mine, mine was the transgression, but Thine the deadly pain.
Lo, here I fall, my Savior! 'Tis I deserve Thy place;
Look on me with Thy favor, vouchsafe to me Thy grace.

What language shall I borrow to thank Thee, dearest Friend,
For this, Thy dying sorrow, Thy pity without end?
O make me Thine forever! And should I fainting be,
Lord let me never, never outlive my love to Thee!

Spafford devoted an entire verse of "It Is Well With My Soul" to the bliss of Christ's blood shed for us:

My sin--O the bliss of this glorious tho't--
My sin, not in part, but the whole,
Is nailed to the cross, and I bear it no more:
Praise the Lord, praise the Lord, O my soul!

Many, many more hymns are devoted to the cross. Pick up a hymnal sometime and look in the topical index. You'll find multiple listings under various topics such as Atonement, The Blood of Jesus, The Cross, and The Crucifixion. Their titles betray their content. "Beneath the Cross of Jesus" "Near the Cross" "At the Cross" "When I Survey the Wondrous Cross" Title after title speaks of the cross and their focus there.

Why this "morbid" preoccupation? Why should they--and, by implication, we--spend so much time looking at the cross? You have the answer. The central theme of Scripture is the substitutionary sacrifice of Christ at the cross. In that single event, all of life changes. Where there was only the certainty of righteous judgment now comes the hope of grace and mercy. Where there were only our fruitless attempts at virtuous living is now freedom. Where there was fear of punishment now comes love.

And the Bible doesn't stop its crucifixion focus at the Resurrection. Certainly we serve a risen Savior, but we see His character magnified large enough for us to recognize at the cross, and the Scriptures are sure to point this out. So everyday, practical living is derived from looking at the cross. Husbands, how are you supposed to love your wives? What does it look like? Look to the cross. Love her "as Christ loved the church and gave Himself for her." (Eph 5:25) Now look at the cross and see how that looks. That means that when all were reviling Him, He did not return the insults. That means that when all had forsaken Him, He still died in her place. That means that although it cost Him everything, He willingly gave all for her, withholding nothing for Himself. All this and more we see at the cross.

Are there difficult circumstances in your life? Do you suffer? How do you deal with it? Look to the cross. "If you suffer for doing good and you endure it, this is commendable before God. To this you were called, because Christ suffered for you, leaving you an example, that you should follow in His steps." (1 Peter 2:20,21) "Since Christ suffered in His body, arm yourselves also with the same attitude, because he who has suffered in his body is done with sin." (1 Peter 4:1) "I want to know Christ and the power of His resurrection and the fellowship of sharing in His sufferings, becoming like Him in His death." (Phil 3:10) "Have this mind in you which was also in Christ Jesus . . . He humbled Himself and became obedient to death even death on a cross!" (Phil 2:5 8) "Looking unto Jesus the author and finisher of our faith; Who for the joy that was set before Him endured the cross, despising the shame, and is set down at the right hand of the throne of God." (Heb 12:2) By looking at the cross, we see that suffering has a purpose, and that we are not alone in it.

These are just a couple of examples of the biblical perspective on the cross. In fact, the crucifixion of Jesus Christ touches every aspect of the Christian's life. Why should we be so focused on the cross? How can we not be focused there? It is the focus of God's Word. It must be our focus, also.

Be Thou My Vision

Solomon wrote, "Where there is no vision, the people are unrestrained, But happy is he who keeps the law." (Prov 29:18). "No vision." What is that? Many have concluded it was a reference to leadership. Leaders must have a vision, a direction to go, a plan, even big dreams. Using invariably the King James Version ("Where there is no vision the people perish"), they use this as proof of the need to dream big. As it turns out, the idea in Solomon's text was a direction from God. The text, in fact, tells you where to get that "vision" by contrasting with the happy person. He "keeps the law." Thus, "vision" is God's Word and "no vision" is disregarding God's Word.

So what is the vision found in the hymn, Be Thou My Vision?

Be Thou my Vision, O Lord of my heart;
Naught be all else to me, save that Thou art.
Thou my best Thought, by day or by night,
Waking or sleeping, Thy presence my light.

Be Thou my Wisdom, and Thou my true Word;
I ever with Thee and Thou with me, Lord;
Thou my great Father, I Thy true son;
Thou in me dwelling, and I with Thee one.

Be Thou my battle Shield, Sword for the fight;
Be Thou my Dignity, Thou my Delight;
Thou my soul's Shelter, Thou my high Tower:
Raise Thou me heavenward, O Power of my power.

Riches I heed not, nor man's empty praise,
Thou mine Inheritance, now and always:
Thou and Thou only, first in my heart,
High King of Heaven, my Treasure Thou art.

High King of Heaven, my victory won,
May I reach Heaven's joys, O bright Heaven's Sun!
Heart of my own heart, whatever befall,
Still be my Vision, O Ruler of all.

Typically attributed to Dallán Forgaill in the 6th century, this Irish hymn was translated by Mary E. Byrne in 1905 and put to verse by Eleanor H. Hull in 1912. The poem was set to an Irish folk tune in 1919. And this one appears to be without confusion. Clearly it is in the same sense as the author of Hebrews intended it:

Since we have so great a cloud of witnesses surrounding us, let us also lay aside every encumbrance and the sin which so easily entangles us, and let us run with endurance the race that is set before us, fixing our eyes on Jesus, the author and perfecter of faith, who for the joy set before Him endured the cross, despising the shame, and has sat down at the right hand of the throne of God. (Heb 12:1-2)

This vision is looking where you're going. Where does the hymn suggest? "Be Thou my vision."

Excluded, then, would be just about anything you might want to think. Riches, praise, family, inheritance, self-preservation, dignity, pleasure ... let's see ... what's left? Nothing. The song calls on God to be the sole sight, the only direction, the single vision. In Him we find wisdom, guidance, family, protection, dignity, joy, shelter, inheritance, treasure, and a future.

When contemplating this wonderful hymn, I came across an interesting feature. Now, mind you, it may simply be the difference between English in 1909 versus modern English, but note the first two lines: "Be Thou my Vision, O Lord of my heart; Naught be all else to me, save that Thou art." Okay, let's first work through the unfamiliar language. "Lord of my heart, please be my focus." Fine. Easy stuff. And then a little more difficult. "Naught be all else to me" -- "Let nothing else be everything to me." If nothing else is to be everything to me, what is? Here's where the language gets interesting. "Save that Thou art." Now, perhaps there is a glitch in understanding. Maybe "that Thou art" is meant to convey "as much as You mean to me." "Let nothing else mean as much to me as you mean to me." But that's not what the words say. The words, taken at face value, say, "except that You are." Okay, hold on. Let me put that together in our English. "Let nothing else mean all to me except that You exist."

If this is accurate, the song is calling on us to love God simply for His being. It isn't loving Him for what He provides which is great. It isn't loving Him for loving us which is marvelous. It is loving Him because He is. It is the language found in Jeremiah's lament.

Surely my soul remembers and is bowed down within me. This I recall to my mind; therefore I have hope. The LORD'S lovingkindnesses indeed never cease, for His compassions never fail. They are new every morning; great is Your faithfulness. "The LORD is my portion," says my soul, "Therefore I have hope in Him." (Lam 3:20-24)

In this amazing passage of Scripture, Jeremiah hits bottom. He experiences hopelessness. What rescues him from hopelessness? It is not the promise of something better. It is simply the Lord. "The LORD is my portion," he says, and that is His reason for hope.

Let nothing mean as much to me as the fact that you are, dear God. You be my vision.

How Great Thou Art

O Lord, my God, when I, in awesome wonder,
Consider all the worlds Thy hands have made,
I see the stars, I hear the rolling thunder,
Thy power throughout the universe displayed.

Then sings my soul, my Savior, God, to Thee,
"How great Thou art! How great Thou art!"
Then sings my soul, my Savior, God, to Thee,
"How great Thou art! How great Thou art!"

This (one of my all-time favorites) was originally a poem entitled "O Store Gud" written by a Swedish pastor after experiencing the might of God's nature in a thunderstorm and the beauty of God's nature in the forest and stream he speaks of in the second verse. He wrote it in 1886, but it was translated in the 1930's by a missionary to Russia, Reverend Stuart K. Hine. Reverend Hine added the third verse in Russia, and the fourth in England.

The song is a prayer. One of the fascinating aspects of this prayer is that there are no requests. It is a prayer of adoration. This is almost unheard of in our time. We are a generation of self-centered people who defend and encourage self-centered attitudes and actions. We are the focal point of our own universe. Even in our prayers we are asking God for what we want, for what would make us happy. This prayer focuses entirely on God and His greatness.

Let's listen in as the hymnist talks to God. Note first the address: "O Lord, my God." "Lord" speaks of God's sovereignty, His lordship. In theological terms, it speaks of the transcendence of God, the God above all.

"Lord" isn't a familiar term to modern day Americans. We are an independent nation that worships freedom and independence. We prefer not to recognize anyone as master over us. We have no present-day role to use as an example of the meaning of the term. But we must learn to recognize -- "realize" (that is, to make that which is true real to ourselves) -- that God is Lord. This isn't an opinion. This isn't an option. Any view that strays from the position of God's absolute sovereignty is in error.

The second aspect of the address, "O Lord, my God," is the term "my". To call Him God is correct. There is none other. He is the one and only God. But the term "my" personalizes the relationship between God, the Sovereign, and me. Theologically, this speaks to His immanence -- his near and personal nature.

Martin Luther said that Christianity is a religion of personal pronouns. We constantly read expressions like "my God," "My people," "my Lord." This points to the personal facet of God, the amazing truth that God is interested in me. No other religion in the world carries this concept of personal relationship. But Jesus said that God knows the number of hairs on my head. That's personal. He wants us to know Him. That's astonishing. We can pray with Moses, "Teach me Thy ways, O Lord, that I might know Thee." (Exo. 33:18-23)

The prayer goes on to recognize God through creation. This is a common occurrence in Scripture (e.g., Psa. 19; Rom. 1:20). All of creation points to its Maker. All created things bear the fingerprints of their Creator.

One consideration of nature is "worlds". The word covers many concepts. Above us there are a myriad of galaxies, stars, solar systems -- worlds. But in the microscopic level there are chemical structures made up of molecular structures comprised of atomic structures -- worlds. In our world there are food chains, life cycles, ecosystems, weather patterns -- worlds. God’s hands, the hymnist says, made each of these. (This takes us back to the personal God.) And each of these, as in the thunderstorm, is a picture of God's power.

The only reasonable response to a glimpse of this sovereign, yet personal, transcendent, yet immanent God is, "How great Thou art!" The hymnist sings it with his innermost being, his soul. The soul encompasses one's mind, will, and emotions. A glimpse of God must impact us at these deepest of levels, or it wasn't real. The soul turned toward God has no room for self.

And when I think that God, His Son not sparing,
Sent Him to die, I scarce can take it in;
That on the cross, my burden gladly bearing,
He bled and died to take away my sin.

Paul says "God demonstrates his own love for us in this: While we were still sinners, Christ died for us." (Rom. 5:8) The recurring theme of God's love appears all through Scripture (e.g., John 3:16; Phil. 2:5-11; Rom. 8:32). It seems, however, that we have taken that grace for granted, as if we somehow deserve God's love. The hymnist didn't see it that way. "I scarce can take it in," was his thought.

Romans says that God was perfectly willing to reveal His glory by demonstrating His wrath (Rom. 9:22). We have gone to great effort to earn His wrath (Romans 6:23). We are, according to Scripture, God-haters (Rom. 8:7; James 4:4). Yet, Christ demonstrated grace - unmerited favor - on the cross. If I have personal worth, intrinsic value, then there is no grace. He merely practiced wise economy. But the fact is Christ died for us because He wanted to, not because I was so valuable.

"On the cross . . . He bled and died." Crucifixion was the worst way to die. Physically, it was designed for the utmost in pain and torture without immediate death. The whipping, the nails, the continuous physical torture of merely breathing while every bone came out of joint, all designed for slow death. Emotionally, it was devised to humiliate. It was a public torture in which the criminal carried his own instrument of death. He hung naked on the cross in front of all that watched. But the only record of Christ crying out was at the spiritual torment of the cross. At the moment of separation from His Father, He cried, "My God, why have You forsaken Me?" He had never been separated from God. He had never known sin. Yet He became sin for us.

Perhaps most remarkable about that day on the cross was the simple, inescapable fact that Jesus chose to do it. No one required it of Him. He could have said, "No." The hymnist recognized this fact. "My burden gladly bearing, He bled and died to take away my sin."

How can we see this and not answer with the writer, "Then sings my soul, 'How great Thou art!'" When we take for granted the immense love and grace demonstrated on the cross, we display our ignorance and self-centeredness.

When Christ shall come, with shout of acclamation,
And take me home, what joy shall fill my heart!
Then I shall bow in humble adoration
And there proclaim, "My God, how great Thou art!"

The last verse is a common concept among hymn-writers. Many hymns looked to the return of Christ, to the day that we would be with Him. It was a joyous thought. The prospect of being in the presence of the Almighty God, the company of our Lord and Savior, was too wonderful to imagine.

We were designed for that condition. It was Adam's original condition in the garden, walking with God. We are incomplete here without that fellowship, so we immerse ourselves in spurious pursuits to fill that void. Meanwhile, Jesus promised to prepare for our arrival (John 14:2,3). What delight to know that He is anticipating our coming! Would that we would see it with such joy.

Hine had no misconceptions about that day. We have ideas of sightseeing in heaven or visiting with biblical characters. He saw his proper response to God's presence as bowing in "humble adoration." Bowing to anyone is not a popular concept in our culture. We are proud people who defer to no one. But Scripture readily reveals that this is the most common position of anyone who came in contact with God. We have failed to see the difference between coming boldly into the presence of God and coming arrogantly into the presence of God. That we can stand in His proximity at all should utterly amaze us. Somehow we have contracted a cavalier attitude that God is some "big guy" upstairs who winks at our sin because He loves us. We mustn't fall into that thought trap.

The hymn is aptly titled, "How Great Thou Art!" It speaks of God's sovereignty as Lord - His transcendence - as well as his personal care for us - His immanence. In it we see Him as the joy of our souls and the sole worthy focus of our hearts. And we see ourselves as needy, sinful people. We see the need to turn the eyes of our souls to Him. He must increase, and I must decrease.

Hallelujah! What a Savior!

I don't know why, but I've had this one rolling around in my head the past few days. Written by Philip P. Bliss in 1875, it is a wonderful hymn. Short. Sweet. To the point. The Gospel in a nutshell.

"Man of Sorrows!" what a name
For the Son of God who came
Ruined sinners to reclaim.
Hallelujah! What a Savior!

Bearing shame and scoffing rude,
In my place condemned He stood;
Sealed my pardon with His blood.
Hallelujah! What a Savior!

Guilty, vile, and helpless we;
Spotless Lamb of God was He;
"Full atonement!" can it be?
Hallelujah! What a Savior!

Lifted up was He to die;
"It is finished!" was His cry;
Now in Heav’n exalted high.
Hallelujah! What a Savior!

When He comes, our glorious King,
All His ransomed home to bring,
Then anew His song we’ll sing:
Hallelujah! What a Savior!

To me the song is a little odd. A little. Because the chorus is a single line. Typically choruses are another entire verse repeated in a song, but this one is one line: "Hallelujah! What a Savior!" Indeed, when you sing it the thing seems to come to an abrupt end. You're almost expecting more. Musically and lyrically it seems like something should follow it. It doesn't. And then, of course, you realize that it doesn't because it mustn't. Given the lyrics, what more can you say but "Hallelujah! What a Savior!"?

"Hallelujah" is Hebrew for "praise Yah" -- praise God. What is it, then, that makes Jesus praiseworthy, makes Him such a marvelous Savior? It is exactly this sacrifice. Bliss has exposited in a sense on Philippians 2:5-8, the passage on how Jesus gave up His "equality with God" to be humbled to the position of a servant, a servant put to death. Bliss references Isaiah 53 for the title, "Man of Sorrows". "He was despised and rejected by men; a man of sorrows, and acquainted with grief; and as one from whom men hide their faces He was despised, and we esteemed Him not" (Isa 53:3). Really? "Man of Sorrows"? This Son of God? Yet, it is true. He took my place. I deserved the worst. The demands of justice required that I pay the ultimate price. And yet the spotless Lamb of God took my place. "Hallelujah! What a Savior!" What more is there to say?

There is, in the last two verses, a transition. It goes from crucified to glorified, from death to resurrection, from vanquished to victory. He was lifted up to die and ended up in heaven "exalted high". And it's not the end. He will return. He will return! Beginning in "Man of Sorrows" and ending in complete victory, it turns the whole mood. The King is coming! "Hallelujah! What a Savior!"

They say that "Hallelujah" is universal. It can be found across languages in slightly altered forms and understood by all. I don't know. It was said that this was the last hymn that Bliss sang in public before his death in a train crash. It is, I'm quite sure, the hymn he's singing now and the hymn we will sing. "When He comes, our glorious King, All His ransomed home to bring, Then anew His song we’ll sing: Hallelujah! What a Savior!" Wrap your arms around the saving blood of Christ and the coming King. I'm pretty sure you'll be singing the same thing.

It's Sunday Again ...

Recently a new book by T. David Gordon hit the streets. The title, Why Johnny Can't Sing Hymns: How Pop Culture Rewrote the Hymnal, says it all. Hymns are out. "Praise songs" are in. Now, don't misunderstand. I don't dislike "praise songs". It's just that eliminating hymns with such rich content, songs that often obey the direct command of Scripture (Col 3:16), is a bad choice in my book. So ... it's Sunday and here's another reprint of a post I wrote some time ago on another of my favorite hymns.
__________________

Nearer, My God, To Thee
Sarah F. Adams

Nearer, my God, to Thee, nearer to Thee,
E'en tho' it be a cross that raiseth me;
Still all my song shall be,
"Nearer my God to Thee,
Nearer, my God, to Thee, nearer to Thee!"

Tho' like the wanderer, the sun gone down,
Darkness be over me, my rest a stone,
Yet in my dreams I'll be
Nearer my God to Thee,
Nearer, my God, to Thee, nearer to Thee!

There let the way appear, steps unto heav'n;
All that Thou sendest me, in mercy giv'n -
Angels to beckon me
Nearer my God to Thee,
Nearer, my God, to Thee, nearer to Thee!

Then with my waking thoughts, bright with Thy praise,
Out of my stony griefs, Bethel I raise;
So by my woes to be
Nearer my God to Thee,
Nearer, my God, to Thee, nearer to Thee!

Or if on joyful wing, cleaving the sky,
Sun, moon and stars forgot, upward I fly,
Still all my song shall be,
"Nearer my God to Thee,
Nearer, my God, to Thee, nearer to Thee!"

Sarah Adams was a lover of music. She and her sister put together a hymnal for their church. While they were working on the project, their pastor asked them if there was a song to accompany his upcoming sermon on the story of Jacob's ladder from Genesis 28:10-22. Sarah launched herself into the idea of writing a song for it, and "Nearer, My God, To Thee" was the result.

The hymn has had a larger impact than Sarah would have thought. Many stories are told about the hymn and its use. Some noted theologians on a trip through the Middle East reported being deeply moved by a band of Syrians standing together and singing it. In 1936, a woman was on her way to the mission field when her train was caught in the Johnstown, Pennsylvania, flood. Hopelessly lost, she stood atop the sinking car and sang, "Nearer, my God, to Thee . . ." In 1912, aboard the ill fated Titanic, survivors said the band played this hymn as the ship sank.

Most of the song can be understood by reading through the Genesis account of Jacob's ladder, but there is an interesting thread through the song that I'd like to illustrate. Jacob was on the run when he had this vision. Times were not good. It is this vision of God in tough times that makes this hymn unusual.

The first line says it quite succinctly. I want to be nearer to God at all costs, even if that cost is a cross. At what cost would you draw nearer to God? Your immediate comfort? Your job? Your family? Your life? The real question is, how important is your relationship with God? The subplot in this hymn is simple. All that occurs in my life is God's attempt to drive me nearer to Him. The sooner I recognize that and cooperate with Him, the better off I'll be.

Look at some of the circumstances mentioned in this hymn. The first verse speaks of a cross. The second refers to being a wanderer, to being in darkness with only a stone for a pillow. The third verse says that all that God gives is given in mercy. The fourth verse cries, in praise, that it is my woes that bring me nearer to God. Verse five says that death itself is merely that which brings me closest to God.

We have forgotten that suffering is God’s chosen method to purify His own. James says that trials bring us to perfection (James 1:2-3). Noah learned that by building an ark and surviving a flood that killed every human being alive. Abraham learned that by leaving all that he new to go to a land that God promised, and by offering his own son as a sacrifice to God. Joseph learned that through being enslaved, wrongfully accused, and falsely imprisoned. Moses learned that in his desert experience before God put him to use freeing Israel from Egypt. Joshua learned it through 40 years in the desert and the rest of his life in battle in Canaan. Paul indicates that perseverance in persecution is evidence of our worthiness to be a part of the kingdom of God (2 Thess. 1:4 5). Peter says suffering proves faith (1 Peter 1:6-7).

Suffering is promised to the believer. Suffering is for our benefit. And we know that God causes all things to work together for our good. May our prayer be the same. "Nearer, my God, to Thee, even though it be a cross that raiseth me."

Hymnody Themes - Suffering

This is likely my last in the hymnody series. For those of you who weren't particularly interest, it's good news. For those of you who have enjoyed it, I'm sorry. Enjoy the last one.

I want to explore, for a moment, the unusual slant the hymns have on suffering. Their viewpoint seems to be different than ours. Now, of course, most Christians would say they were willing to suffer for the sake of Christ. We in modern day America don't have too much of that occurring, so we can easily concur that suffering for Christ is the right thing. How, then, do we respond when our employer fires us for talking to a co-worker about Christ during a lunch break? Righteous indignation? Or peaceful acceptance of our suffering for the sake of our Savior?

The question gets harder. You believe that suffering for your faith is the right thing to do. You see it as right, even admirable. You have a great deal of respect for the martyrs who gave their lives through the centuries for the sake of Christ. But how do you respond when a parent snubs you because they don't like your choice of jobs or spouse? This isn't a matter of religious conviction. There's nothing commendable in this. Or how do you respond when you are in an accident on the freeway and lose a leg? There's nothing noble in this. You haven't been persecuted for your beliefs. This is just suffering. Do you degenerate to the "Why, God?" syndrome that beats angrily at the door of heaven demanding an answer from the Creator as to how He could do something like that to one of His own?

The hymns see suffering in a much different light. While we differentiate between sacred and secular, religious and real life, they seem to meld the two. Look at "Be Still, My Soul":

Be still, my soul! The Lord is on thy side.
Bear patiently the cross of grief or pain.
Leave to thy God to order and provide,
In every change He faithful will remain.
Be still, my soul! Thy best, thy heavenly friend
Through thorny ways leads to a joyful end.

There doesn't seem to be any discrimination between the sacred or the secular. It speaks of "the cross of grief or pain." That could be any grief, any pain. The last verse speaks of "disappointment, grief, and fear," of sorrow and change. These sufferings have little to do with one's beliefs or faith. They are sufferings common to everyone. Each of us suffers disappointment, fear, and the trauma of change.

What does the hymn provide in the way of comfort? "The Lord is on thy side." "Thy heavenly Friend through thorny ways leads to a joyful end." How does the hymnist deal with pain? She places her trust squarely on the reliable Lord of the universe, the One whom "the waves and winds still know." "He faithful will remain." Other hymns agree. "Precious Lord", for instance, places our hands in the hand of God, resting in Him to take us through the trials. This attitude changes entirely the face of difficult circumstances.

"How Firm A Foundation" trusts God to take us through fiery paths, and adds a further twist to the problem of suffering. "The flame shall not hurt thee; I only design thy dross to consume and thy gold to refine." Can you actually believe that God is at work in the suffering, that He is using it for your good (Rom. 8:28, 29)? This would almost make suffering desirable, wouldn't it?

"It Is Well With My Soul" gives different enlightenment on the question of "Why do bad things happen to good people?" and some help on how to handle it. The second verse is as follows:

Tho' Satan should buffet, tho' trials should come,
Let this blest assurance control,
That Christ hath regarded my helpless estate,
And has shed His own blood for my soul.

This blurs the line between secular and sacred. It attributes suffering to Satan. From this vantage point, suffering for your faith differs little from other harsh circumstances. It all comes from Satan, and it is all under God's control. (The book of Job illustrates this perfectly.) Further, the verse looks to Christ's regard for "my helpless estate," to His death for me as comfort during my trials.

In "Nearer, My God, To Thee," there seems to actually be a request for suffering. In the first verse the hymnist states a longing to be near to God, even if a cross is required. Darkness (verse 2) and woes (verse 4) are seen as welcome friends that bring one closer to God, and death brings the ultimate closeness (verse 5).

Scripture supports this view. Peter says that insomuch as we share in the sufferings of Christ, we should rejoice (1 Peter 4:13 14). Paul told the Corinthians that suffering allows us to experience the comfort of God and to comfort others (2 Cor. 1:3 6). Beyond that he says, "Our light and momentary troubles are achieving for us an eternal glory that far outweighs them all." (2 Cor. 4:11 18) To the Colossians he said, "Now I rejoice in what was suffered for you, and I fill up in my flesh what is still lacking in regard to Christ's afflictions, for the sake of his body, which is the church." (Col. 1:24) He saw suffering as adding to the cause of Christ! James tells us to rejoice in suffering because God is at work building perseverance and maturity (James 1:2 4). Peter says we were called to suffer (1 Peter 2:21), and that suffering weans us from sin (1 Peter 4:1).

How different is our view today? We see suffering as barely tolerable in the case of the sacred, but unacceptable in the realm of the secular. We flee pain at the onset and pursue no course that looks like trials will be included. Further, we see hard times as God's stamp of disapproval. Clearly the one who is suffering has angered God somehow. We have built churches around healing the wounded and ministries around binding the suffering. The pursuit of pleasure and escape from pain has become our lifestyle - our god.

What a unique view of suffering the hymns have! The hymnists see suffering as the loving work of God in the lives of His children. It is not pleasant, nor is it unbearable. God is disciplining His children for their good (Heb. 12:1-11). His aim is to form their character into a reflection of Christ. God, in fact, cares more about character than comfort. Shouldn't we? Scripture says that suffering provides comfort for us and others, brings glory for the future, adds to Christ's work, builds maturity, and drives us from sin. The hymn writers wanted that. How can we not?

Hymnody Themes - The Cross

There are lots of themes in hymns. Look at the "Topical Index" of any hymnal and you'll find a lot of topics. I just wanted to hit on one or two.

One of the common themes in hymns that is very rare in choruses and praise songs is the cross. The question of "why?" can be inconclusive and alarming. The fact remains that the cross is as much a central theme in Scripture as it is in hymns; in fact, more so. Paul said, "We preach Christ crucified." (1 Cor. 1:23) He told the Corinthians, "I determined to know nothing among you except Christ and Him crucified." (1 Cor. 2:2) We are to live all of life with a view to the cross (Heb. 12:2). The daily operation of the Christian life is the taking up of one's cross (e.g., Matt. 10:38; 16:24; Mark 8:34; Luke 9:23; 14:27) It is at the cross that we learn how to love (e.g., Eph. 5:25; Rom. 5:8) and how to view trials (e.g., Rom. 8:17,18; Phil. 3:10; Heb. 5:8; 1 Peter 4:1,13).

The hymns join in this theme with vigor. "How Great Thou Art" devotes an entire stanza in awe of the cross. "And when I think that God, His Son not sparing, sent Him to die, I scarce can take it in; that on the cross, my burden gladly bearing, He bled and died to take away my sin."

Isaac Watts spends his entire time "At the Cross" recognizing the unfathomable wonder of what occurred there for us:

Alas, and did my Savior bleed, and did my Sovereign die?
Would He devote that sacred head for such a worm as I?

Was it for crimes that I have done He suffered on that tree?
Amazing pity! Grace unknown! And love beyond degree!

Another Watts hymn, "When I Survey the Wondrous Cross," puts all of life in perspective through the filter of Christ's sacrifice:

When I survey the wondrous cross on which the Prince of glory died,
My richest gain I count but loss and pour contempt on all my pride.

Forbid it Lord that I should boast save in the death of Christ my God.
All the vain things that charm me most I sacrifice them to His blood.

See from His head, His hands, His feet, sorrow and love flow mingled down.
Did e'er such love and sorrow meet, or thorns compose so rich a crown?

Were the whole realm of nature mine, that were a present far too small.
Love so amazing, so divine, demands my life, my soul, my all.

Toplady's "Rock of Ages" is the argument based on salvation by the blood alone. His main point: "In my hand no price I bring. Simply to Thy cross I cling." Elizabeth Clephane takes the argument a step further, claiming that the cross is the place we should be living. "Beneath the cross of Jesus I fain would take my stand," she says, and goes on to explain why. Further, she urges us to remain focused there by telling what she sees:

Upon that cross of Jesus, mine eye can sometimes see
The very dying form of One who suffered there for me;
And from my smitten heart with tears two wonders I confess -
The wonders of His glorious love and my own worthlessness.

Perhaps this is why we avoid the cross in our songs today. While we certainly enjoy the concept of God's love, we don't like the concept of sin. Self-esteem may be damaged. Guilt might be imparted. Our fragile egos can't stand the stress. And a look at the cross certainly produces stress when we see the need. God required DEATH because of my sin.

We won't accept that. We nod our heads and agree, but we don't really believe it. We stand, with fists raised, and defy God to prove our guilt. "I'm just not that bad, God," we protest loudly. "I haven't killed anyone ... if you leave out that 'hating your brother is murder' stuff. I'm no sex offender ... as long as you leave the 'lust equals adultery' thing out of it. I don't worship other gods ... let's not talk about the idolatry of greed." And we glibly compare ourselves among ourselves and stand firm on our conviction that we're not that bad. But the truth is the standard is God and His perfection, and we are sinners from the inside out. We have all but blotted out the image of God in us and replaced it with the arrogant Self.

The cross was costly. It showed the great extent to which God would go to save worthless ones like us. It demonstrated love toward the unlovable. Its horror graphically illustrated the horror of our sin and the depths of our depravity, contrasting us with the perfection that was Jesus Christ. It is only when we see this, only when we realize this, that we can grasp the cross with both hands, cling to it quite literally, for dear life.

Beyond that, living in the shadow of the cross is the sole place to abide:

I take, O cross, thy shadow for my abiding place -
I ask no other sunshine than the sunshine of His face;
Content to let the world go by, to know no gain nor loss,
My sinful self my only shame, my glory all the cross. (Gal. 6:14)

"O Sacred Head, Now Wounded," taken from a much longer seven-part medieval poem, devotes its entire text to Christ's head as He suffered on the cross:

O Sacred Head, now wounded,
With grief and shame weighed down,
Now scornfully surrounded
With thorns Thy only crown,
How art Thou pale with anguish,
With sore abuse and scorn!
How does that visage languish
Which once was bright as morn!

What Thou, my Lord, hast suffered
Was all for sinners' gain;
Mine, mine was the transgression,
But Thine the deadly pain.
Lo, here I fall, my Savior!
'Tis I deserve Thy place;
Look on me with Thy favor,
Vouchsafe to me Thy grace.

What language shall I borrow
To thank Thee, dearest Friend,
For this, Thy dying sorrow,
Thy pity without end?
O make me Thine forever!
And should I fainting be,
Lord let me never, never
Outlive my love to Thee!

Spafford devoted an entire verse of "It Is Well With My Soul" to the bliss of Christ's blood shed for us:

My sin - O the bliss of this glorious tho't -
My sin, not in part, but the whole,
Is nailed to the cross, and I bear it no more:
Praise the Lord, praise the Lord, O my soul!

Many, many more hymns are devoted to the cross. Pick up a hymnal sometime and look in the topical index. You'll find multiple listings under various topics such as Atonement, The Blood of Jesus, The Cross, and The Crucifixion. Their titles betray their content. "Beneath the Cross of Jesus" "Near the Cross" "At the Cross" "When I Survey the Wondrous Cross" Title after title speaks of the cross and their focus there.

Why this "morbid" preoccupation? Why should they -- and by implication, we -- spend so much time looking at the cross? The answer I have already stated. The central theme of Scripture is the substitutionary sacrifice of Christ at the cross. In that single event, all of life changes. Where there was only the certainty of righteous judgment now comes the hope of grace and mercy. Where there was only our fruitless attempts at virtuous living is now freedom. Where there was fear of punishment now comes love.

And the Bible doesn't stop its crucifixion focus at the Resurrection. Certainly we serve a risen Savior, but we see His character magnified large enough for us to recognize at the cross, and the Scriptures are sure to point this out. So everyday, practical living is derived from looking at the cross. Husbands, how are you supposed to love your wives? What does it look like? Look to the cross. Love her "as Christ loved the church and gave Himself for her." (Eph. 5:25) Now look at the cross and see how that looks. That means that when all were reviling Him, He did not return the insults. That means that when all had forsaken Him, He still died in her place. That means that although it cost Him everything, He willingly gave all for her, withholding nothing for Himself. All this and more we see at the cross. Indeed, Paul says, "I have been crucified with Christ; and it is no longer I who live, but Christ lives in me; and the life which I now live in the flesh I live by faith in the Son of God, who loved me and gave Himself up for me" (Gal. 2:20). That is the Christian life -- a life dead to me and alive to Him. That comes through the cross.

Are there difficult circumstances in your life? Do you suffer? How do you deal with it? Look to the cross. "If you suffer for doing good and you endure it, this is commendable before God. To this you were called, because Christ suffered for you, leaving you an example, that you should follow in His steps." (1 Peter 2:20,21) "Since Christ suffered in His body, arm yourselves also with the same attitude, because he who has suffered in his body is done with sin." (1 Peter 4:1) "I want to know Christ and the power of his resurrection and the fellowship of sharing in his sufferings, becoming like Him in his death." (Phil. 3:10) "Have this mind in you which was also in Christ Jesus . . . He humbled himself and became obedient to death even death on a cross!" (Phil. 2:5-8) "Looking unto Jesus the author and finisher of our faith; who for the joy that was set before him endured the cross, despising the shame, and is set down at the right hand of the throne of God." (Heb. 12:2) By looking at the cross, we see that suffering has a purpose, and that we are not alone in it.

These are just a couple of examples of the biblical perspective on the cross. In fact, the crucifixion of Jesus Christ touches every aspect of the Christian's life. Why should we be so focused on the cross? How can we not be focused there? It is the focus of God's Word. It must be our focus, too.

Spirit Of God, Descend Upon My Heart

It's a longer one, but I think, obviously, that it's well worth the time. (Besides ... it's likely the last.)

Spirit Of God, Descend Upon My Heart
George Croly

Spirit of God, descend upon my heart;
Wean it from earth; through all its pulses move;
Stoop to my weakness, mighty as thou art,
And make me love thee as I ought to love.

I ask no dream, no prophet ecstasies,
No sudden rending of the veil of clay,
No angel visitant, no opening skies;
But take the dimness of my soul away.

Hast thou not bid me love thee, God and King?
All, all thine own, soul, heart and strength and mind.
I see thy cross; there teach my heart to cling.
O let me seek thee, and O let me find.

Teach me to feel that thou art always nigh;
Teach me the struggles of the soul to bear.
To check the rising doubt, the rebel sigh,
Teach me the patience of unanswered prayer.

Teach me to love thee as thine angels love,
One holy passion filling all my frame;
The kindling of the heaven-descended Dove,
My heart an altar, and thy love the flame.

One of the common differences between hymns and contemporary praise songs is the depth of their content. Praise songs tend to be light and “milky”, while hymns generally are weightier and “meaty”. It is difficult to spend much time chewing on a praise song, but one can meditate on a hymn, pulling out more and more good stuff. This particular hymn is a prime example. It was written by George Croly, a pastor in London in the 1800’s. Some of his works included Scenes from Scripture and other Poems (1851) and Psalms and Hymns for Public Worship (London: Kendrick, 1854). It was intended to be his reminder to himself of his goal and focus. If you take a few minutes to examine the hymn, you will find it is rich in good theology.

Croly opens his prayer to the Holy Spirit in a request to have him “descend upon my heart” and “wean it from earth, through all its pulses move.” We all have ties to earth. We all live here. And we all suffer from this strange malady that limits our vision to the world in which we live and leads us to falsely believe that this is all there is. What we need is to be removed from this world. What we need is to be, as the hymn writer put it, weaned from earth. It is high on his list of priorities in the work of the Holy Spirit. “Keep me in this world, but teach me to rely on You, not it, for my sustenance.” That is his initial request.

“Stoop to my weakness, mighty as Thou art, and make me love Thee as I ought to love.” To many today, this would almost be offensive. Sure, we’d appreciate that God is mighty and we are weak, but make me love Thee? What we fail to remember too often is that “it is God who is at work in you both to will and to do His good pleasure” (Phil. 2:13). We need God to make us love Him. And He is willing and able to do so. We need to contrast our weakness with His might. We have this illusion that we aren’t that weak. The simple truth is we are that weak, and we must have God’s strength to make us love Him.

In the second verse, the hymnist seems to ask not for the things we would dearly love. He doesn’t want to have some special event with God. He doesn’t ask, like Moses, “Show me Your glory” (Exo. 33:18). Why would that be? Perhaps he remembered that Scripture says, “The heavens declare the glory of God” (Psa. 19:1). Perhaps he called to mind that creation displays God’s attributes, power, and nature for all to see (Rom. 1:20). Perhaps he recognized the beauty of the Word of God and the boldness with which we can enter the Throne of God. We all know all that, yet we still cry, “Show me Your glory.” What prevents us from reveling in all that we already have? Croly said, “The problem is not You; the problem is the dimness of my soul.” That is his prayer: “Take the dimness of my soul away.”

The third verse starts with the recognition of a command given: “Love the Lord your God” (Deut. 6:5; Matt. 22:37). As King, He has the absolute right to issue the command. As God, He has absolute ownership. “All, all Thine own, soul, heart and strength and mind.” As God and King, His command is not “Give me your soul, heart, strength, and mind.” It is “Give Me what is Mine already.” And we say, “No.” At best we say, “I’ll try.” We actually resist giving Him what is already His.

What is it that prevents us from surrendering to Him what belongs to Him? It is our flesh. So he says, “I see Thy cross – there teach my heart to cling.” There is a sense in some of the Church today that the Cross is the starting place, but that we need to move beyond it. Look at the topical index in a typical book of praise songs, and you will find very little if anything related to the Cross. Many in the church have the same idea. Sure, we’re saved there, but now we move on to the victorious Christian life, and that’s certainly not a cross. But Jesus said, “Take up your cross daily” (Luke 9:23). The significance of the Cross does not end at salvation.

The Cross is, indeed, the starting point of Christianity. It is a starting place that must not be left behind. Jesus instituted the Lord's Supper to remind us of His sacrifice. Paul said, "I determined to know nothing among you except Christ and Him crucified" (1 Cor. 2:2). There we see the substitutionary death that Christ endured on our behalf. We see the cost of sin. We see the distance God would go to save His children. This death, this starting point, is the key message throughout Scripture, starting with "the wages of sin is death" (Rom. 6:23) to "I am crucified with Christ" (Gal. 2:20) all the way to "present your bodies a living sacrifice" (Rom. 12:2). It is the beginning and ending point. It teaches us to repent and to hate sin. It teaches us to die to self. The mortification of the flesh, killing the old man, is the life long process of every Christian.

The Cross produces love in us as we respond to the display of love from God that it represents. It produces joy in us as we realize the salvation it represents. It produces peace in us as we see that we are no longer at war with God, but instead united to Him. As we see what Christ did for us on that cross, we develop patience with other fellow sinners, being forgiven as much as we have been forgiven. It teaches us kindness in response to the love, joy, and peace we have. It provides deterrence to sin and teaches us, instead, to be good. When we recognize what He did on the cross, it calls us to be faithful as a natural response to His care for us. The Cross leaves no room for harshness, but encourages, instead, gentleness. And as we put to death the old man and put on the new at the Cross, we learn self-control. (See Gal. 5:22-23.) The Cross, indeed, drives us toward everything that we need to be. It gives remembrance and gratitude and humility and the fruit of the Spirit. It is indeed our starting place, but it is necessarily our abiding place as well. Instead of moving on, we need to pray, "I see Thy cross -- there teach my heart to cling."

"O, let me seek Thee and, O, let me find" is the last line of the verse. Somehow that doesn't seem right to many Christians today. After all, doesn't Jesus say, "Seek and you shall find"? We have forgotten that Man's original condition is that of hostility to God (Rom. 8:6-8). We have forgotten that "there is none who seeks for God" (Rom. 3:11). We have forgotten that, unless God grants and unless God draws, we have no power to come to Christ (John 6:44, 65). So we pray, "O, let me seek Thee and, O, let me find", and we learn a new appreciation for our relationship with the Most High. We need to remember that it is purely by the grace of God that we even approach Him.

The first line of the fourth verse seems odd to us. "Teach me to feel that Thou art always nigh." We might ask, "Hey, what do you mean? God is always near." Croly isn't questioning God's omnipresence. He is recognizing his own limitations. Of course God is always near, but do I realize it? His prayer is that he would be constantly aware of that very dear truth that God is always there. It's called "practicing the Presence", and its impact is large to those who do it.

"Teach me the struggles of the soul to bear." This would be one of the primary impacts of the constant presence of God. Knowing He is always near, I am more capable of handling the most difficult trials I face . . . the internal ones. What kind of internal struggles beset the hymn writer? He lists two: rising doubt and the rebel sigh. Note that he doesn't say, "Teach me not to doubt." There is a perception that Christians should never doubt. This is a misconception. In reality, doubts properly addressed bring about certainty. Doubts fully examined and answered produce conviction of the truth. So he doesn't ask for doubt to be removed. Instead he asks that the Holy Spirit teach him to deal with doubts instead of pushing them aside and letting them fester. Not, "don't let me doubt", but "teach me to deal with my doubts immediately."

The second struggle seems a little odd. "The rebel sigh"? Anyone who has had children has heard "the rebel sigh". You know: "Okay, it's time to turn off the TV and clean your room." "Ah, Mom!" They may obey, but they do it with "the rebel sigh". We do that to God. "Wives, submit to your husbands." "What?! Me submit to him? He doesn't even know enough to come in out of the rain." "Husbands, love your wives." "What?! She's a nag." Instead of cheerful obedience to the God we love, we give Him "the rebel sigh". "Holy Spirit, teach me to check the rebel sigh."

The last request in this verse seems a little odd as well. We all know that there is no such thing as unanswered prayer. God always answers prayer. He might say, "Yes" or "No" or "Wait", but He always answers. Unfortunately, this simple response -- God always answers prayers -- doesn't soothe very well when we get a "no" answer or when we are in that "wait" condition. In fact, too often the "Yes" is in a way we don't expect and can often miss it. So we sit and wonder "Is God going to answer my prayer?" Croly asks "In those times, when I can't see Your answers, teach me patience."

"Teach me to love Thee as Thine angels love, one holy passion filling all my frame." What a marvelous prayer! What a wonderful desire! There are none more devoted to God than His angels. They are consumed with their love for Him. They do His bidding and surround Him with adoration. There is no higher calling than to be consumed with that one, singular passion of love for God. Nor are words sufficient to describe it. George Croly sees that, so his prayer ends with that thought. “Holy Spirit”, he prays, “descend on me and consume me with love for God. Light me aflame with this love for You.”

There is another interesting approach to this hymn, one I believe is worth exploring. It is telling how much one learns of the person who wrote the hymn, a person who could be considered “everyman”.

He recognizes his need. “Spirit of God, descend upon my heart.” It is the biblical need – “Be filled with the Spirit” – but for him it is deeply personal. He sees in himself a dependency on the world from which he needs to be weaned. He sees a weakness that is countered by the strength of the Spirit. He sees in himself a propensity to fail to love God as he should.

In the second verse he recognizes his preference for the spectacular. From ancient times, the call has been “show us a sign.” Instead, he recognizes that the real problem is dimness of soul, not the reality of God.

In the third verse he sees his own primary failure – the failure to obey the Great Commandment. People talk about being good and living perfect lives, but this singular command to love God with all your heart, soul, and mind is much too big to even grasp for most. Our proclivity is to wander rather than cling.

In keeping with his previous shortcomings, we get a real glimpse of the man in the fourth verse. At times he feels that God isn’t near. At times he struggles with himself in ways that seem beyond his endurance. Sometimes he doubts; sometimes it is rebellion. Then there are times that God’s seeming lack of response to his prayers seems like he is being ignored. All of these are common to us. All of them are natural results of our flesh, of our dependency on the world, of our weakness and dimness of soul and failure to love God as we ought.

Then, rejuvenated by his prayer of confession as much as supplication, the hymn writer rises in his plea to love as the angels love, to be filled with that one holy passion. His deep, inner longing is to be the altar, the “living sacrifice”, on which God is glorified by the Spirit in the man.

This approach serves to illustrate that part of knowing God better involves knowing ourselves and our shortcomings. Only by doing so can we truly recognize our need for Him.

Nearer, My God, To Thee

Time once again for the Sunday Hymn.

Nearer, My God, To Thee
Sarah F. Adams

Nearer, my God, to Thee, nearer to Thee,
E'en tho' it be a cross that raiseth me;
Still all my song shall be,
"Nearer my God to Thee,
Nearer, my God, to Thee, nearer to Thee!"

Tho' like the wanderer, the sun gone down,
Darkness be over me, my rest a stone,
Yet in my dreams I'll be
Nearer my God to Thee,
Nearer, my God, to Thee, nearer to Thee!

There let the way appear, steps unto heav'n;
All that Thou sendest me, in mercy giv'n -
Angels to beckon me
Nearer my God to Thee,
Nearer, my God, to Thee, nearer to Thee!

Then with my waking thoughts, bright with Thy praise,
Out of my stony griefs, Bethel I raise;
So by my woes to be
Nearer my God to Thee,
Nearer, my God, to Thee, nearer to Thee!

Or if on joyful wing, cleaving the sky,
Sun, moon and stars forgot, upward I fly,
Still all my song shall be,
"Nearer my God to Thee,
Nearer, my God, to Thee, nearer to Thee!"

Sarah Adams was a lover of music. She and her sister put together a hymnal for their church. While they were working on the project, their pastor asked them if there was a song to accompany his upcoming sermon on the story of Jacob's ladder from Genesis 28:10-22. Sarah launched herself into the idea of writing a song for it, and "Nearer, My God, To Thee" was the result.

The hymn has had a larger impact than Sarah would have thought. Many stories are told about the hymn and its use. Some noted theologians on a trip through the Middle East reported being deeply moved by a band of Syrians standing together and singing it. In 1936, a woman was on her way to the mission field when her train was caught in the Johnstown, Pennsylvania, flood. Hopelessly lost, she stood atop the sinking car and sang, "Nearer, my God, to Thee . . ." In 1912, aboard the ill fated Titanic, survivors said the band played this hymn as the ship sank.

Most of the song can be understood by reading through the Genesis account of Jacob's ladder, but there is an interesting thread through the song that I'd like to illustrate. Jacob was on the run when he had this vision. Times were not good. It is this vision of God in tough times that makes this hymn unusual.

The first line says it quite succinctly. I want to be nearer to God at all costs, even if that cost is a cross. At what cost would you draw nearer to God? Your immediate comfort? Your job? Your family? Your life? The real question is, how important is your relationship with God? The subplot in this hymn is simple. All that occurs in my life is God's attempt to drive me nearer to Him. The sooner I recognize that and cooperate with Him, the better off I'll be.

Look at some of the circumstances mentioned in this hymn. The first verse speaks of a cross. The second refers to being a wanderer, to being in darkness with only a stone for a pillow. The third verse says that all that God gives is given in mercy. The fourth verse cries, in praise, that it is my woes that bring me nearer to God. Verse five says that death itself is merely that which brings me closest to God.

We have forgotten that suffering is God’s chosen method to purify His own. James says that trials bring us to perfection (James 1:2-3). Noah learned that by building an ark and surviving a flood that killed every human being alive. Abraham learned that by leaving all that he new to go to a land that God promised, and by offering his own son as a sacrifice to God. Joseph learned that through being enslaved, wrongfully accused, and falsely imprisoned. Moses learned that in his desert experience before God put him to use freeing Israel from Egypt. Joshua learned it through 40 years in the desert and the rest of his life in battle in Canaan. Paul indicates that perseverance in persecution is evidence of our worthiness to be a part of the kingdom of God (2 Thess. 1:4 5). Peter says suffering proves faith (1 Peter 1:6-7).

Suffering is promised to the believer. Suffering is for our benefit. And we know that God causes all things to work together for our good. May our prayer be the same. “Nearer, my God, to Thee, even though it be a cross that raiseth me.”

I'd Rather Have Jesus

Okay, last week's hymn was rather stuffy, perhaps, although I loved it myself. How about a "more contemporary" hymn?

I'd Rather Have Jesus

I'd rather have Jesus than silver or gold,
I'd rather be His than have riches untold;
I'd rather have Jesus than houses or land,
I'd rather be led by His nail-pierced hand:

Refrain
Than to be the king of a vast domain or be held in sin's dread sway!
I'd rather have Jesus than anything this world affords today.

I'd rather have Jesus than men's applause,
I'd rather be faithful to His dear cause;
I'd rather have Jesus than worldwide fame,
I'd rather be true to His holy name:

He's fairer than lilies of rarest bloom,
He's sweeter than honey from out of the comb;
He's all that my hungering spirit needs -
I'd rather have Jesus and let Him lead:

Originally a poem by Rhea Miller, the song was set to music and popularized by George Beverly Shea. It demonstrates a focus almost unknown in the church today.

In Philippians 1, Paul writes, "For me, to live is Christ and to die is gain." Paul's focus was on the greater glory of God. Paul, writing from Roman imprisonment, awaiting possible execution, recognized the true purpose of life Christ. Given this focus, living would further the cause of Christ and dying would put him in the presence of his beloved Savior. Paul's position was a no lose proposition. Regardless of the outcome, Paul would gain.

This song carries the same focus. "I'd rather have Jesus." For most of us, to live is something other than Christ. Life consists of silver or gold, riches and the quest for it, property, power, or applause. We want so many other things other than Christ. The problem is, all of that is lost at death. If, for me, to live is wealth, power, or fame, then to die is loss. It is only in a sole focus on Jesus that we can obtain gain here and in death. We need that eternal focus.

Some of our reasons for failing this focus are hinted at in the song. One is the bright baubles offered by the world. We've bought into the lie that success is measured in dollars. We believe that power is worth something. We long for our much vaunted "15 minutes of fame." All are lies, offering nothing of eternal value.

On the negative side, what Christ seems to offer is unwanted or inconsequential. His nail pierced hands are a sad reminder of sin, our sin. Our culture doesn't want to face personal sin. Then there is His "dear cause." We consider that irrelevant to our lives. His "holy Name" is little more than an expletive to us. How sad that we fail so miserably to see the truth.

In truth, His nail pierced hands represent ultimate victory over sin and death, a feat unequalled anywhere. His cause encompasses paths and plans we can't even comprehend. His holy Name is the Name, the Name above all names. It is sheer foolishness not to align ourselves with Him, and our failure to see that is proof of the deceitfulness of our hearts (Jer. 17:9).

The songwriter recognized this truth and more. "I'd rather have Jesus than anything this world affords today." Why? Because of the victory of the cross. Because of the richness of His plans. Because of His sovereignty. And more. His beauty exceeds our comprehension. The lily pales in comparison. His sweetness is beyond our experience. Honey doesn't hint at it. The fact is, while we believe that money, power, or recognition are necessities in life, Christ is all we need.

This viewpoint alters our entire approach to life. If what we think is necessary isn't necessary, what is? Christ is. A relationship with the sovereign Lord is. A connection with the omnipotent, omniscient, loving God is. A realization that "He is God and I am not" is. These are necessary. Pursuit of anything this world has to offer is a waste. How much of your life are you wasting? Is Jesus your focus?

O Sacred Head Now Wounded

It's Sunday again, and I'm putting in another hymn. It's an oldie, to be sure, and a lot of you may not have ever heard it. It's painful to sing (because it's in the classical style using archaic language) and it's painful to examine (because it's about the suffering of Christ), but, please, give it a chance. I think you'll find it valuable to examine.

O Sacred Head, Now Wounded
Attributed to Bernard of Clairvaux (1091-1153)

O Sacred Head, now wounded, with grief and shame weighed down,
Now scornfully surrounded with thorns Thy only crown,
How art Thou pale with anguish, with sore abuse and scorn!
How does that visage languish which once was bright as morn!

What Thou, my Lord, hast suffered was all for sinners' gain;
Mine, mine was the transgression, but Thine the deadly pain.
Lo, here I fall, my Savior! 'Tis I deserve Thy place;
Look on me with Thy favor, vouchsafe to me Thy grace.

What language shall I borrow to thank Thee, dearest Friend,
For this, Thy dying sorrow, Thy pity without end?
O make me Thine forever! And should I fainting be,
Lord let me never, never outlive my love to Thee!

The original words to this hymn have been attributed to a 12th-century abbot of the monastery of Clairvaux, France. Recent research has more likely attributed the writings to Saint Bernard, or perhaps a later author, Arnulf von Loewen. The hymn is taken from a seven-part medieval poem that speaks of various parts of Christ's body as He suffered on the cross: His feet, knees, hands, side, breast, heart, and face. It was translated from Latin into German in 1656 and titled, "To the Suffering Face of Jesus Christ." It appeared in 1830 in English after James Alexander translated it from German. Also of note is the harmonization of the hymn by Johann Sebastian Bach. Bach was a devout Christian who insisted that "the aim and final reason of all music should be nothing else but the glory of God and the refreshment of the spirit." Many of his compositions began with "Jesus, help me!" at the top and closed with, "To God alone be the praise."

The focus of the song is clearly at the Crucifixion. It spends a great deal of time looking at Christ's suffering on the cross. This is not a popular subject in today's churches. The cross was a vicious event in a barbarian society. Our real woes are the pains of today, our struggles and our trials. By "struggles" we mean "sin," but this is another unpopular term. We'd rather attribute our pride, lusts, and idolatry to our parents, or the dysfunctional lifestyle we grew up with, or perhaps the rigors of modern society. So instead of explicitly admitting sin, we dodge the bullet and avoid the responsibility. Thus, the Crucified Christ would not be a favored symbol in our minds. But the cross is the focal point of all of Scripture. It must be ours if we are to look where God would have us look.

Jesus' suffering on the cross exceeds our modern day comprehension. The whips, the beatings, the abuse, the nails, the hours of physical, mental, emotional, and spiritual torment are all outside any modern frame of reference. That He chose to do it is unfathomable. This first verse tries to put that across. In this verse are both the Godhood and manhood of Christ. There is the Sacred Head . . . and the wounds. There is the crown . . . made of thorns. This is the face of He who created the morning, now twisted in anguish. Think of it! God chose to die that way for you! And since He was God, it is important to remember that He didn't have to.

If that's true, then why did He do it? The second verse says He did it for my benefit. Is that easy for you to grasp? "Mine, mine was the transgression, but Thine the deadly pain." The hymnist has no delusions of avoiding responsibility. No dysfunctional family traditions let him off the hook. No excuses for bad behavior. It is sin that put Christ on the cross -- my sin. "I deserve Thy place." Without this realization, grace is meaningless. If we are not deserving of hell, then we merit God's favor. Grace is unmerited favor. And it is only that unmerited kindness that holds any hope for the sinner. That is the hymnist's prayer. ("Vouchsafe" means to bestow or grant.)

We are a generally ungrateful race and a particularly ungrateful nation. Blessings upon blessings have been heaped all around, but we don't see God's grace. The Church is not exempt from this shortcoming. One would think that the Church would be more tuned to God's tender mercies, but we are just as unappreciative as the world around us. When we look at the cross, this lack becomes unthinkable. For all He did there, for all He did for me, what possible response can there be? "What language shall I borrow to thank Thee, dearest Friend?" This should be our daily thought. It should be the motivating factor in our every waking moment. How can I express my deep gratitude to God?

The truth, however, is that it isn't. We too easily forget God and drift off to our selfish pursuits. That is why Paul assured us that "it is God who is at work in you both to will and to do His good pleasure." (Philippians 2:13) To Him goes all the credit, both in obtaining and in maintaining our salvation. We will faint. We will forget. It is only God at work in us that changes that. The hymnist knew this. "Lord let me never, never outlive my love to Thee!"

We need to be here -- often. We need to spend time at the cross. We need to examine His pain, and see our own responsibility. We need to realize the cost of our salvation. We need to weep over our sin and thank God continuously for His grace. This type of mindset will alter our lives. It will change our behavior and attitudes. The more we reflect on Christ, the more it will make us reflections of Christ.

The Solid Rock

Another Sunday hymn coming to you ...

The Solid Rock
Edward Mote

My hope is built on nothing less than Jesus' blood and righteousness;
I dare not trust the sweetest frame, but wholly lean on Jesus' name.

Refrain
On Christ, the Solid Rock, I stand - all other ground is sinking sand,
All other ground is sinking sand.

When darkness veils His lovely face, I rest on His unchanging grace;
In ev'ry high and stormy gale my anchor holds within the veil.

His oath, His covenant, His blood support me in the whelming flood;
When all around my soul gives way, He then is all my hope and stay.

When He shall come with trumpet sound, O may I then in Him be found,
Dressed in His righteousness alone, faultless to stand before the throne.

Edward Mote was born in 1797 to poor, ungodly parents in London, England. The school he attended wouldn't allow a Bible to be seen, and his Sundays were spent on the streets. He grew up ignorant of God, and became a cabinetmaker. One day his master took him to hear John Hyatt and there he met Christ. His life was radically altered.

When he was fifty-five, a church building was completed for his Baptist congregation due largely to his effort. The congregation offered him the deed out of gratitude, but he refused. "I do not want the chapel; I only want the pulpit, and when I cease to preach Christ, then turn me out of that." He served there for the next twenty-one years until he resigned due to poor health a year before his death.

This hymn was written in 1834 and titled, "The Gracious Experience of a Christian." It originally had six verses. The two omitted verses are interesting to note:

My hope is built on nothing less than Jesus' blood and righteousness;
'Midst all the hell I feel within, on His completed work I lean.

I trust His righteous character, His council, promise and His power;
His honor and His name's at stake, to save me from the burning lake.

(Why were these verses omitted? Are they too controversial? Do we not want to hear about hell or judgment?)

The hymn was released in 1836 under the name "The Immutable Basis of a Sinner's Hope." The hymn expresses the confidence found in the blood, righteousness, unchanging grace, promise, and covenant of Christ. What better place to hope! Surely all other ground is sinking sand.

The hymn points out a vital doctrine in Christianity. Most religions claim to attain heaven by good works. Even we Christians, while discounting their philosophy, view ourselves as more righteous individuals. Certainly we're valuable people. The claim of Scripture, however, is that there is none good, and that my only value, my only righteousness, my only hope lies in the person of Jesus Christ.

The fact is, although His death and resurrection made Jesus special, His sinless life made Him unique. The crucifixion would have been meaningless without His righteousness, for it was His righteousness that qualified Him to pay for my sin. Our hope, then rests solely on Jesus' death in my place and the sinlessness that enabled it, that is, "Jesus' blood and righteousness." Nothing within any of us can add to or enable our forgiveness. No morality, no sacrifice, not anything will change that truth.

The refrain points to the only safe place to stand: "On Christ, the Solid Rock." The concept of Christ, the Rock, is a common one in Scripture ¹. It brings to mind some very clear pictures. His immutability, His faithfulness, His solidity, all this and more are represented in this image. It is upon this Rock that we are to build our house (Matt. 7:24-27). All other ground is sinking sand. Where do you "build your house?" Are you more at home in the truth of Scripture or the claims of today's thinking? Is, for instance, self-esteem and self-fulfillment a priority? Or is self-denial your preference? The two views are in direct contradiction. Which is yours? The church in America has, in many cases, strayed from the Rock and built on sinking sand.

When darkness veils His lovely face, I rest on His unchanging grace;
In ev'ry high and stormy gale My anchor holds within the veil.

The second verse deals with one of the difficult questions for Christians. Where is God when it hurts? How do we deal with trials and tribulations, when our very core of faith is assaulted? The hymn looks to the character of God Himself. "I rest on His unchanging grace." "My anchor holds within the veil." "Within the veil" refers to the holy of holies, the place in which God dwells. It is in the presence of God that peace occurs. Where is God when it hurts? Right beside me. How do I deal with trials? Resting in the proven faithfulness of God.

His oath, His covenant, His blood support me in the whelming flood;
When all around my soul gives way, He then is all my hope and stay.

In the book of Job, God allowed Satan to strip away all of Job's obvious support. With family, wealth, and health gone, Job was left with a wife who urged him to "curse God and die" and three "friends" who assured him that God only did this kind of thing to sinners. Now, God's ways are far above ours. His reasons may not be clear or simple (although they are always right). But one of His intents was to strip Job of all but dependence on Him. We see this as Job gears up for a case against God (Job 31:35-37) and then faces the inquisition to end all inquisitions (Job 38 41). Job ends in repentance (Job 42:1-6). This is God's aim. So says James (James 1:1 4). Our growth occurs in trials.

This is the same message in the third verse of this hymn. "When all around my soul gives way, He then is all my hope and stay." This has always been God's plan our total dependence on Him. In the garden of Eden, we see God providing both of our necessities: significance and security. Man had a job to do (significance) in the dominion of the earth (Gen. 1:28). God provided for him (security) in this task (Gen. 1:29, 30). All of life is God's constant supply of security and significance. But our sin nature blinds us to both. So God is in the business of constantly stripping from us all but Himself. He alone is our hope. That's why we can stand on Christ, the Solid Rock.

When He shall come with trumpet sound, O may I then in Him be found,
Dressed in His righteousness alone, faultless to stand before the throne.

One leading complaint about the church is that it is full of hypocrites. This seems ludicrous at first glance since the prerequisite to coming to Christ is a recognition of sin. Churches are, essentially, a group of admitted losers. But a strange thing occurs thereafter. Somehow we become convinced that because we are saved, we are better. We are more obedient, more acceptable to God, more righteous. This is self righteousness, the miserable condition for which Christ lambasted the Pharisees (Matt. 23:1-36).

The last verse of this hymn holds the truth that corrects this problem. The fact is we possess no righteousness. There is no good in us (Romans 3:10-18). The righteousness required by God to enter His presence is provided by Christ alone. "Clothed in His righteousness alone." All my value, all my good, all my righteousness is a result -- a gift -- of Christ. Only His righteousness allows me to stand faultless. There is no other hope.

His blood, His righteousness, His faithfulness, His promise. He is my only hope. He is the Solid Rock. All other ground is sinking sand. Where is your footing? Do you trust your capabilities? Friends? Family? Or do you see Christ as your only hope? All other ground is sinking sand.

¹ There are over 20 references to God as the Rock in Scripture. See Gen. 49:24; Deut. 32:4; 32:15; 32:18; 32:30; 32:31; 1 Sam. 2:2; 2 Sam. 22:32, 47; 23:3; Psa. 18:31; 18:46; 19:14; 28:1; 42:9; 78:35; 89:26; 92:15; 95:1; 144:1; Rom. 9:33; 1 Cor. 10:4; 1 Peter 2:8.

'Tis So Sweet To Trust In Jesus

Okay, it's Sunday again. I think we could all use another hymn.

'Tis So Sweet To Trust In Jesus
Louisa M. R. Stead

'Tis so sweet to trust in Jesus, Just to take Him at His word,
Just to rest upon His promise, Just to know, "Thus saith the Lord."

Chorus
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.

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

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

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.

The song was written by Louisa Stead, an English-born woman who moved to America in 1871. On a picnic with her husband and four-year-old daughter, she watched her husband drown attempting to save a drowning boy. The hymn was written in response to her own soul-searching question of "why?". Mrs. Stead later went on to the mission field in South Africa where she served until she died. Her daughter became a missionary to Rhodesia.

What was it that sustained Mrs. Stead? What drove her to God in the face of His apparent unkindness? When others would have fled God's cruelty, she proclaimed, "'Tis so sweet to trust in Jesus." What did she see that pressed her closer to God?

Louisa Stead knew a God who was faithful. Today's blithe bumper sticker, "God said it, I believe it, that settles it!" may be true, but our experiential record demonstrates a lack of the sincere trust needed in times of trial. The hymnist, on the other hand, demonstrated a trust in God in the midst of what psychologists consider the most stressful condition known to man, the loss of a loved one.

So how did she acquire this faith? The chorus answers the question. "How I've proved Him o'er and o'er." God, being God, has the right to demand our belief, but He points instead to our own personal history to prove His faithfulness. Throughout Scripture, God calls on experience to prove His faithfulness. He reminds Israel again and again that it was He who brought them out of Israel. He reminds them of the many blessings He has bestowed. He reminds them also of His recurring wrath. In the book of Amos, He points out the inevitability of judgment that always follows sin. God is faithful. He says He is. If we would look, we would see it.

The second line of the chorus is a wonderfully human plea. In the gospel of Mark, a man asks Jesus to heal his child. Jesus tells him he must have faith. With a plea we can all understand, he replies, "I believe; help Thou my unbelief." The hymn concurs. Following on the glorious certainty of God's faithfulness, we hear, "O for grace to trust Him more!" This, too, is my prayer.

One of the most amazing things about the good news of redemption is its incredible simplicity. Man's religion tries to muddy the waters with a performance-oriented view. If we're good enough, we'll get to heaven. Christians know this isn't the case, but a strong undercurrent of legalism remains. The evangelical church fights with the extremes of righteousness by law and antinomianism, the end of law. God's good news is so much simpler. "Just to trust His cleansing blood." The hymnist relies on the simplicity of faith. So does God's Word. "We are saved by grace through faith," Paul tells us (Eph. 2:8). It doesn't get any more plain than that.

There's much more to this good news, this trust in our heavenly Father. The next verse says that we are to "cease from sin and self." This is an ongoing process, the end of which will be in heaven, but imagine a world of people who are not tied up in self-interest. Imagine a society predicated on looking out for each other rather than scurrying to protect one's self. The world finds such a prospect abhorrent, but with our trust in Jesus, there is no other rational path. Why should I be worried about self when this faithful God, the One with the proven character, is looking out for my best? I can only imagine the rest of being self-forgetful.

Is there unrest in your life? Are you stressed? Do you have worries? Is there little joy? The problem is not circumstances. The problem is trust. There is no reason we can't all agree with this last verse. "I'm so glad I learned to trust Thee, precious Jesus, Savior, Friend." What have I to worry over with Jesus in my life? What could possible trouble me with the Lord of lords as my friend? Is there trouble anywhere? If you lack peace, it's your choice. We have the proven faithfulness of God in which to rest. With Him we are never alone (Hebrews 13:5). This recurring theme in Scripture should cheer us in our daily living. If it doesn't, we are refusing to believe God. We are failing to trust Jesus.

Come, Thou Fount

Okay, it's Sunday. Here's another hymn.

Come, Thou Fount of Every Blessing

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.

Here I raise mine Ebenezer - hither by Thy help I'm 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.

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.

Written in 1758 by Robert Robinson, this old hymn is a favorite of many. It has fallen into the sorry condition of anonymity largely because of the archaic language, but the truths held herein shouldn't be missed.

James writes, "Every good gift and every perfect gift comes down from the Father." The hymn writer concurs. He recognizes God as the "Fount of every blessing." We seem to miss that so many times today, thinking we have earned our good fortune. But the hymn credits God with that.

Further, the hymnist sees gratitude as a need of the heart, an attribute to be learned and developed. "Tune my heart to sing Thy grace." We see ourselves as much larger than we are. We think that with Jesus by our side we can do anything. We don't see that we can do nothing if we don't cling closely to Him. There is no good thing in us . . . only Christ. It is His work, even to attune us to gratefulness. And giving thanks is one of the pleasing things to God (Eph. 5:20; Col. 1:9-12; 1 Thess. 5:18).

In our lack of gratitude, we have missed the next great truth that the hymn examines. "Streams of mercy." Some believe that Christ had to die for us, that His love for us required it. They place an undue sense of value on themselves. But God's holiness and wrath require judgment. It is mercy that stands between us and the living God. "It is a terrifying thing to fall into the hands of the living God." (Heb. 10:31)

Our culture values self above all else. We refuse to believe that we deserve hell. We, after all, are human beings, valuable in our own existence. We've changed the hymns' references that denigrate our worth (e.g., "At The Cross" and "Beneath The Cross Of Jesus"). But without that bad news, the good news isn't as good. If we are, after all, valuable beings in ourselves, then it was only good economy on God's part to save us - and there is no grace. Grace is defined as unmerited favor. If we have merit, there is no grace.

In 1 Samuel 7, God delivers Israel from the Philistines. The prophet, Samuel, leads the nation in a sacrifice and God confounds the enemy with thunder. When it was done, he declared the place Ebenezer (1 Sam. 7:12), the place where God helped them. It was a symbol of God's faithfulness. Robinson raises his symbol of God's faithfulness on the place he found himself. He saw his very existence as proof of God's intervention. "By Your help and Your help alone I've come this far in life." How far? All the way to salvation.

The hymnist places no trust in his ability to maintain his salvation. "I hope by Thy good pleasure safely to arrive at home." All the glory of salvation and all the success of arrival lands squarely in God's lap. Neither the obtaining nor the sustaining of redemption is possible for a human being alone. But God is immensely capable. He proved it at the cross, at the cost of His shed blood.

The current theory in evangelical churches across America is that to become a Christian, we accept Christ. Robinson states it rather differently. "Jesus sought me when a stranger wandering from the fold of God." Scripture is plain to teach that faith is a gift from God (Eph. 2:8), and that we fail to seek God (Rom. 3:11). It is solely grace, favor shown without any merit in the receiver, that causes God to seek those who run from Him. Why? "To rescue me from danger." And at what cost? His blood. This, indeed, calls for songs of loudest praise.

We seem to easily forget God's amazing grace. We embrace it, then take it for granted, then demand it. Would that we could maintain the view that this hymn holds. God's goodness to us, the undeserving, should hold us in His debt. It has been said that the ethic of salvation is grace and the ethic of the Christian life is gratitude. "Let Thy goodness, like a fetter, bind my wandering heart to Thee." That kind of slavery ought to be a welcome part of every believer.

Robinson recognized a trait in himself that we all possess and often miss. He saw his tendency to wander. In later life he did walk away from God, failing to be bound to God's goodness. But wandering, in itself, is not the final problem. Great heroes of the Bible strayed into sin. Abraham, whose faith was reckoned to him as righteousness, feared so much for his own life that he passed his wife off as his sister. David, the man after God's own heart, committed adultery and murder. The faith chapter of Hebrews 11 is as much a rogue's gallery as a museum of the faithful, for each hero of faith failed.

What, then, are we to do? Wherein is our hope? Our confidence is in the One who called us, who sought us while we were yet strangers. "It is God who is at work in you," Paul says (Phil. 2:13). What joy to have the assurance that God holds our hearts, sealed for Him (Eph. 1:13, 14)!

Seeing God, His grace, love, mercy and goodness, in this light must necessarily return us to the first verse of the hymn, for there is the proper response. Lord, fountain of every blessing, tune my heart to sing Your grace. The unending stream of Your mercy calls for songs of loudest praise. Teach me to sing as only the angels in heaven can sing of Your wonders. I'm fixed, grounded, rooted, anchored in Your redeeming love.