Hymn of the Week, A Lenten Devotional: March 13, 2023

Guide Me, O Thou Great Jehovah

Glory to God: 65

Text William Williams 1762
Music John Hughes 1907

Guide me, O thou great Jehovah,
pilgrim through this barren land.
I am weak, but thou art mighty.
Hold me with thy powerful hand.
Bread of heaven, bread of heaven,
feed me till I want no more;
feed me till I want no more.

Open now the crystal fountain,
whence the healing stream doth flow.
Let the fire and cloudy pillar
lead me all my journey through.
Strong deliverer, strong deliverer,
be thou still my strength and shield;
be thou still my strength and shield.

When I tread the verge of Jordan,
bid my anxious fears subside.
Death of death, and hell's destruction,
land me safe on Canaan's side.
Songs of praises, songs of praises
I will ever give to thee;
I will ever give to thee.

Hymn Texts: A Lenten Devotional

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

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

Feed Me Til I Want No More

The Sinai Peninsula is a dry, barren, forbidding place. Imagine the Israelites, thousands of them, without a compass, army, food, or water supply, wandering around out there for forty years. That wilderness wandering has become a parable of the Christian life, although a few days of spiritual dryness isn’t quite as daunting as spending decades out on sandy, rocky terrain in soaring temperatures and with the occasional gnat and locust swarm.

“Guide me, O thou great Jehovah, pilgrim through this barren land” is a lovely and fitting prayer to God. We want guidance, which is more than general wisdom about doing the right thing. If you go on a wilderness trek, your guide is the one you stick close to. She warns you about dangers and knows where the shade and watering holes are. Guide me. I’m like a child, I’m weak in this spiritual life, so “hold me with thy powerful hand.” Imagine walking through your days with God’s firm hand in yours. God’s secure grip, comforting and guiding. Over here. This way now. Careful.

Lest we forget, as God guided the Israelites, they murmured and kept planning to bolt and return to Egypt. But God fed them manna, a blessing of immense mercy in response to their bitter complaints against Moses (and God!). We would expect sin to elicit God’s rage, but it seems to stir God’s mercy. As we sing these words, are we really anymore pious or full of faith than they were?

The hymn picks up on other images from Exodus and Numbers, like the fountain (see Exodus 17: 1-7) and the fire and cloud that gave direction by day and night (see Exodus 13:21). Not to mention Israel’s arrival at their longed-for destination, crossing safely onto Canaan’s side: “When I tread the verge of Jordan.”

So many slave spirituals picked up on this imagery. “Deep river, my home is over Jordan” and. “I am bound for the promised land of Canaan” were thinly veiled codes for hoping to cross over the Mason-Dixon line or to make it to Canada. Of course, that “verge of Jordan” also implies the end of life, instilling hope. President James Garfield, nearing death, brightened and then wept as his wife sang this hymn to him; and it was sung at Princess Diana’s funeral.

Perhaps more than any other hymn, this one could keep someone with a Bible concordance busy. The main focus seems to be the wilderness journey, but the hymn also quotes and alludes to a broad variety of texts: Numbers 20:2-13, Deuteronomy 8:15, Joshua 3, Psalm 78:52, John 4:14, 1 Corinthians 10:4, 2 Timothy 1:10, Hebrews 11:!3, Revelation 22:1-2 and others. William Williams, who composed the hymn in his native Welsh, was one of those Christians who are very deeply immersed in scripture that phrases fall effortlessly from their minds, as naturally as breathing comes to the rest of us.

Excesses of Exuberance

Yet so many hymn writers miss the point in their excesses of exuberance. We have, for example, “Are Ye Able said the Master to be crucified with me? . . .Yea, the sturdy dreamers answered, to the death we follow thee. Lord, we are able.” When Jesus asked the disciples this very question, they too answered, “We are able” (Mark 10:39) – but the tragicomedy was that they most certainly were not able. Peter denied him. The others fled.

“Guide Me, O Thou Great Jehovah” makes a similar blunder. Appealing twice to God as “bread of heaven” and alluding to the provision of the manna in the wilderness, the hymn prays “Feed me till I want no more” and then repeats it. Like a family at Thanksgiving, we imagine ourselves feasting until our bellies are about to pop. Lord, give me what I want, even more, until I’m totally full. But the manna wasn’t a bountiful meal. It was barely enough to get by for a day. And it had to get old, same manna, day after day, for months, years, decades. They got a little and surely hankered for a little more. God gave them not their fill, but enough.

The geniuses of the early centuries of the church understood the virtues of hunger and dissatisfaction. While many people in wealthy modern countries feel that all desires must be satisfied, early Christians knew that emptiness, craving and unfulfilled desire for God was the secret to the spiritual life.

We have a hunger to know God. We learn a bit about God, but instead of that quenching our thirst, it makes us even thirstier for more of God. Then we apprehend even more of God, we feast on greater knowledge of God – only to discover that we are even more hollow now, yearning for even more. God made us this way. The joy is in the pursuit, in the gnawing desire for more, rather than in any fantasy of being full or having gotten what there is to receive.