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

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

Published by Upper Room Books 2021.

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

Lord, You Have Come to the Lakeshore

Text and Music Cesáreo Gabaráin 1979

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You Have Come to the Lakeshore

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Published by Upper Room Books 2021.

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

Near to the Heart of God

Text and Music Cleland Boyd McAfee 1901

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

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

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

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

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

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

A Place of Quiet Rest

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Hymn of the Week: He Leadeth Me

This Lenten Season:

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

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

Text Joseph H. Gilmore 1862
Music William Bradbury 1862

He Leadeth Me

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Psalter Hymnal, (Gray)

His Faithful Follower I Would Be

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Text Katherine Hankey 1866
Music William G. Fischer 1869

I Love to Tell the Story

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

’Tis so sweet to trust in Jesus

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He Comes to Us as One Unknown

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Philip

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

Text and Music Chris Tomlin 1998

We Fall Down

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

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

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

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

Have a great week.
Philip

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Stay Healthy!
Philip

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

Text and Music: African American Spiritual

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Hymn of the Week: Take Time to be Holy

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Hark! The Herald Angels Sing

Text Charles Wesley 1739
Music Felix Mendelssohn 1855

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

In the Bleak Midwinter 

Text Christina Rosetti 1872
Music Gustav Holst 1906

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Text Cecil Frances Alexander 1848
Music Henry John Gauntlett 1849

Once in Royal David’s City

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Hymn of the Week: Lo, How a Rose E’er Blooming
Glory to God 129

Text German Carol 15 stanzas
Music Michael Praetorius 1609

Today’s Hymn of the Week highlights a beautiful and timeless carol. I came across a great article by Robinson Meyer from The Atlantic Monthly that takes a look at various carols both sacred and secular. This is an abridged rendering of his article. Enjoy!

“Lo, How a Rose E’er Blooming” is an easy carol to write about, because I do not have to convince you it is beautiful. Pull up any choral recording, slide over to the penultimate phrase—“amid the cold of winter”—and listen hard to that last word. Between the first and second syllables of winter, the minor chord blossoms into major.

I mean this seriously: What else is there to say? Here is the chill of winter transfigured into an ardent flame; here is theology as harmony. “Lo, How a Rose” even includes an extended pastoral analogy and an allusion to the Book of Isaiah. I’m not a Christian, but I’m at a loss as to what more you could want from sacred music. Kazoos?

Most Christmas carols, and most of our popular music generally, exist for the rhythm or melody. Consider how much mileage “Angels We Have Heard on High” gets out of its cascading glorias, or how much of the fun of “Carol of the Bells” springs from its icy intervals or insistent tempo. But “Lo, How a Rose” exists for the chords. There is almost no rhythmic variation: The four voices move together, syllable after syllable, in patient homophony. This is a hymn about beholding and listening. It’s about watching revelation flourish.

It’s been about this since the beginning. Many Christmas tunes date back centuries, but what’s striking about “Lo, How a Rose” is that it is old as a coherent piece of music. However ancient it is, “Greensleeves” has changed a lot: The lyrics used to talk about a prostitute; now they talk about Jesus. But “Lo, How a Rose” has pretty much been the same since its inception in the early 17th century.

The tune we now know first appears in a regional hymnal in 1599 as “Es Ist ein Ros Entsprungen.” Michael Praetorius, a court composer in central Germany, wrote the familiar harmonization 10 years later. Such ends the meaningful musical history of “Lo, How a Rose.” There have been a few changes to the text since then—more German

verses were added in the 19th century, and the most common English translation was written in 1894—but essentially none to the music. Hear the song today, in church or in a mall, and you’ll almost certainly hear the exact chords Praetorius picked, in the order he picked them.

Perhaps later generations, less hung up on attention than ours, will find other ways to ornament Praetorius’s score. Maybe their arrangements will dwell less in meditation and more in quickly oscillating rhythm. Yet the core will remain. For more than 400 Decembers, singers have waited on “Lo, How a Rose.” It is a text in sound; it is a set of tones and pauses; it is a cogent path of breath and time.

Robinson Meyer is a staff writer at The Atlantic. He is the author of the newsletter The Weekly Planet, and a co-founder of the COVID Tracking Project at The Atlantic.

Hymn of the Week: Love Divine, All Loves Excelling
Glory to God 366

This week I went into the vaults and pulled out a beloved hymn that I’ve talked about before. Enjoy! I’ve also included this time around some great biographical information about Charles Wesley. We cannot know enough about this awesome hymn composer who has given us so many of our beloved hymns.

HYFRODOL
Charles Wesley 1747 Text
Music Rowland Pritchard 1831

Love Divine, All Loves Excelling

1.
Love divine, all loves excelling,
Joy of Heav’n to earth come down;
Fix in us thy humble dwelling;
All thy faithful mercies crown!
Jesus, Thou art all compassion,
Pure unbounded love Thou art;
Visit us with Thy salvation,
Enter every trembling heart.

2.
Breathe, O breathe Thy loving Spirit
Into every troubled breast!
Let us all in Thee inherit;
Let us find the promised rest.
Take away the love of sinning;
Alpha and Omega be;
End of faith, as its beginning,
Set our hearts at liberty.

3.
Come, Almighty to deliver,
Let us all Thy life receive;
Suddenly return, and never,
Nevermore Thy temples leave.
Thee we would be always blessing,
Serve Thee as Thy hosts above,
Pray and praise Thee without ceasing,
Glory in Thy perfect love.

4.
Finish, then, Thy new creation;
Pure and spotless let us be;
Let us see Thy great salvation
Perfectly restored in Thee;
Changed from glory into glory,
Till in Heav’n we take our place,
Till we cast our crowns before Thee,
Lost in wonder, love, and praise.

Charles Wesley (1707-1788) was a prolific hymn writer, writing over 9000 hymn texts in his lifetime. “Love Divine, All Loves Excelling” was first published in a collection of hymns entitled Hymns for those that Seek, and those that Have, Redemption in the Blood of Christ (1747). The beginning of the text was a play on the opening line of John Dryden’s (1631-1700) poem “Fairest Isle, All Isles Excelling” set to music by Henry Purcell (1659-1695) in the generation before Charles Wesley was born.

The tunes BEECHER or HYFRYDOL typically accompany the text in most hymnals. The hymn is written around a progression of thoughts: (1) our prayers for the Holy Spirit, (2) praying for the return of our Lord through the second coming, and (3) prayers for the finalization of his new creation.

Charles Wesley, M.A. was the great hymn-writer of the Wesley family, perhaps, taking quantity and quality into consideration, the great hymn-writer of all ages. Charles Wesley was the youngest son and 18th child of Samuel and Susanna Wesley and was born at Epworth Rectory, Dec. 18, 1707. In 1716 he went to Westminster School, being provided with a home and board by his elder brother Samuel, then usher at the school, until 1721, when he was elected King's Scholar, and as such received his board and education free. In 1726 Charles Wesley was elected to a Westminster studentship at Christ Church, Oxford, where he took his degree in 1729 and became a college tutor. In the early part of the same year, his religious impressions were much deepened, and he became one of the first band of "Oxford Methodists."

In 1735 he went with his brother John to Georgia, as secretary to General Oglethorpe, having before he set out received Deacon's and Priest's Orders on two successive Sundays. His stay in Georgia was very short; he returned to England in 1736, and in 1737 came under the influence of Count Zinzendorf and the Moravians, especially of that remarkable man who had so large a share in molding John Wesley's career, Peter Bonier, and also of a Mr. Bray, a brazier in Little Britain. On Whitsunday, 1737, [sic. 1738] he "found rest to his soul," and in 1738 he became curate to his friend, Mr. Stonehouse, Vicar of Islington, but the opposition of the churchwardens was so great that the Vicar consented that he "should preach in his church no more." Henceforth his work was identified with that of his brother John, and he became an indefatigable itinerant and field preacher. On April 8, 1749, he married Miss Sarah Gwynne. His marriage, unlike that of his brother John, was the happiest one; his wife was accustomed to accompanying him on his evangelistic journeys, which were as frequent as ever until the year 1756," when he ceased to itinerate and mainly devoted himself to the care of the Societies in London and Bristol. Bristol was his headquarters until 1771 when he removed with his family to London, and, besides attending to the Societies, devoted himself much, as he had done in his youth, to the spiritual care of prisoners in Newgate. He had long been troubled about the relations of Methodism to the Church of England, and strongly disapproved of his brother John's "ordinations." Wesley-like, he expressed his disapproval in the most outspoken fashion, but, as in the case of Samuel at an earlier period, the differences between the brothers never led to a breach of friendship. He died in London, March 29, 1788, and was buried in Marylebone churchyard. His brother John was

deeply grieved because he would not consent to be interred in the burial-ground of the City Road Chapel, where he had prepared a grave for himself, but Charles said, "I have lived, and I die, in the Communion of the Church of England, and I will be buried in the yard of my parish church." Eight clergymen of the Church of England bore his pall. He had a large family, four of whom survived him; three sons, who all became distinguished in the musical world, and one daughter, who inherited some of her father's poetical genius. The widow and orphans were treated with the greatest kindness and generosity by John Wesley.

As a hymn-writer Charles Wesley was unique. He is said to have written no less than 6500 hymns, and though, of course, in so vast a number some are of unequal merit, it is perfectly marvelous how many there are which rise to the highest degree of excellence. His feelings on every occasion of importance, whether private or public, found their best expression in a hymn. His own conversion, his own marriage, the earthquake panic, the rumors of an invasion from France, the defeat of Prince Charles Edward at Culloden, the Gordon riots, every Festival of the Christian Church, every doctrine of the Christian Faith, striking scenes in Scripture history, striking scenes which came within his own view, the deaths of friends as they passed away, one by one, before him, all furnished occasions for the exercise of his divine gift. Nor must we forget his hymns for little children, a branch of sacred poetry in which the mantle of Dr. Watts seems to have fallen upon him. It would be simply impossible within our space to enumerate even those of the hymns which have become really classical. The saying that a really good hymn is as rare an appearance as that of a comet is falsified by the work of Charles Wesley; for hymns, which are really good in every respect, flowed from his pen in quick succession, and death alone stopped the course of the perennial stream.

It has been the common practice, however for a hundred years or more to ascribe all translations from the German to John Wesley, as he only of the two brothers knew that language; and to assign to Charles Wesley all the original hymns except such as are traceable to John Wesley through his Journals and other works.

The list of 482 original hymns by John and Charles Wesley listed in this Dictionary of Hymnology have formed an important part of our hymnody and show the enormous influence of the Wesleys on the English hymnody of the nineteenth century.

-- Excerpts from John Julian, Dictionary of Hymnology (1907) 

This arrangement of the HYFRODOL tune, by Joel Raney.

Hymn of the Week: Come, Ye Thankful People Come
Glory to God 367

Text Henry Alford 1844
Music George Job Elvey 1858

As we prepare for Thanksgiving, I wanted to share one of the most beloved hymns of this time of year. It will also be sung at the Ecumenical Thanksgiving Service on November 21 at 7 pm, here at First Presbyterian.

Come, Ye Thankful People Come

Come, ye thankful people, come,
raise the song of harvest home;
all is safely gathered in,
ere the winter storms begin.
God our Maker doth provide
for our wants to be supplied;
come to God's own temple, come,
raise the song of harvest home.

All the world is God's own field,
fruit as praise to God we yield;
wheat and tares together sown
are to joy or sorrow grown;
first the blade and then the ear,
then the full corn shall appear;
Lord of harvest, grant that we
wholesome grain and pure may be.

For the Lord our God shall come,
and shall take the harvest home;
from the field shall in that day
all offenses purge away,
giving angels charge at last
in the fire the tares to cast;
but the fruitful ears to store
in the garner evermore.

Even so, Lord, quickly come,
bring thy final harvest home;
gather thou thy people in,
free from sorrow, free from sin,
there, forever purified,
in thy presence to abide;
come, with all thine angels, come,
raise the glorious harvest home.

Born into a long line of Anglican clergymen, Alford was raised early by his father and later by his uncle, Rev. Samuel Alford, due to his mother’s death during his birth. This instability resulted in his early education being scattered between private tutoring and a variety of schools, but in 1827 he became a scholar at Trinity College where he received all his secondary education (B.A. 1832, M.A. 1835). He was ordained a priest in the Anglican church in 1834, served in the vicarage at Wymeswold in Leicestershire (18 years), at Quebec Street Chapel in Marylebone, London (4 years), and as Dean of the Chapter of the Cathedral of Christ Church, Canterbury, England (14 years).

This hymn first appeared in Alford’s Psalms and Hymns adapted to the Sundays and Holydays throughout the year (1844). Methodist hymnologist J. Richard Watson details several revisions of the text both by Alford and others, resulting in the author’s final revision in 1868 (Watson, Canterbury Dictionary, n.p.). In this hymn, Alford used traditional language and imagery of the rural community to lend words of thankfulness for God’s provision and to expand upon Matthew 13:24–30:

Tom Stewart, in his writing, says:

[The hymn] addresses the common theme of harvest festivals, called in England the Harvest Home, which is celebrated in English churches usually during the month of September. A thanksgiving service would be held in the church, where the bounty of the harvest is collected, displayed with the fall trappings of pumpkins and autumn leaves, and then dispensed to the needy. And, of course, unlike the humanist that is essentially grateful to only himself, a true Harvest Home celebration acknowledges the provision of God, as did the Pilgrims in 1621 and the ancient Hebrews in their Feast of Firstfruits in the spring on the first day after Passover at the time of the barley harvest. (Stewart, 2016, n.p.)

The eminent minister and hymnologist, Erik Routley (1917–1982), took great offense at this hymn in his book, Hymns Today and Tomorrow. For the most part, his criticism concerns the musical setting, ST. GEORGE’S WINDSON, yet Routley feels that it is “extremely doubtful whether the [imagery of the last judgment] makes any impact on congregations at all” (Routley, 1964, p. 126). The hymn is complex, but it is by no means obscure or opaque.

The first stanza focuses directly on the physical harvest, an image used throughout scripture from early in Genesis through Revelation. We give thanks for the physical harvest as we give thanks for our daily bread in the Lord’s Prayer. Thanksgiving begins with the most concrete blessings in our lives. As well as a physical harvest, the first stanza alludes to Jesus’ remark in all three synoptic gospels—the harvest is plentiful but the laborers are few, and the thankful people who are called to come are those who have already been sent by the Lord of the harvest, Jesus Christ.

The second stanza begins Alford’s expansion upon the parable of Jesus concerning the wheat and the tares (weeds) from Matthew 13:24–30. It is a challenging parable, which Alford interprets in this hymn to describe how joy and sorrow grow together in life, and how God does not eliminate sorrow until after the final harvest when God “will wipe every tear from their eyes. Death will be no more; mourning and crying and pain will be no more, for the first things have passed away” (Revelation 21:4. (NRSV).

The third and fourth stanzas move more directly to the apocalyptic reference, “For the Lord our God shall come.” Erik Routley felt this imagery out of place. However, connecting thanksgiving with the coming of Jesus is imagery that is used at every celebration of the Lord’s Supper.

The hymn tune ST. GEORGE’S WINDSOR, composed in 1856 by George J. Elvey (1816–1893) for the hymn “Hark! The Song of Jubilee,” has been associated with “Come, Ye Thankful People, Come” since the publication of Hymns Ancient and Modern (1861). As noted above, some reviewers of the hymn have pointed to the incongruity of this sturdy and joyful tune with these words, but there is some beauty in this pairing as well, especially with text painting at some points. Among others, one such case is the use of a dotted rhythm, balanced throughout the music, as a compelling invitation to sing, notably on the opening “Come.” One might also notice the phrase “all is safely gathered in” where the pitch begins and ends on A but feels “gathered” by the use of the neighboring tones, Bb and G. Midway through the hymn, the phrases, “first the blade and then the ear, then the full corn shall appear,” are sung in an ascending sequence that seems almost like corn growing in the field. Later, the leap upward for ‘raise the song’ and ‘raise the glorious’ helps to paint the intent of the final phrases in stanzas 1 and 4.

Regardless of Routley’s misgivings, the discerning hymn singer cannot help but appreciate the vibrant eschatological final stanza that amplifies Christ’s parable. It is offered here in the author’s original language and punctuation:

Hymn of the Week: I Bind Unto Myself Today
Glory to God: 6
Text Attributed to St. Patrick
Music Irish Melody arranged by Charles Villiers Stanford 1902

Today’s hymn celebrates the Trinity with the timeless Irish hymn. The analysis of the text comes from the hymnology archive.

I Bind Unto Myself Today 

I bind unto myself today
the strong name of the Trinity,
by invocation of the same,
the Three in One, and One in Three.

I bind this day to me forever
by power of faith, Christ's in carnation
his baptism in the Jordan river,
his death on Cross for my salvation;
his bursting from the spiced tomb,
his riding up the heavenly way,
his coming at the day of doom
I bind unto myself today.

I bind unto myself today
the virtues of the starlit heaven,
the glorious sun's life giving ray,
the whiteness of the moon at even,
the flashing of the lightning free,
the whirling wind's tempestuous shocks,
the stable earth, the deep salt sea
around the old eternal rocks.

I bind unto myself today
the power of God to hold and lead,
God's eye to watch, God's might to stay,
God's ear to hearken to my need,
the wisdom of my God to teach,
God's hand to guide, God's shield to ward;
the word of God to give me speech,
the heavenly host to be my guard.

Christ be with me, Christ within me,
Christ behind me, Christ before me,
Christ beside me, Christ to win me,
Christ to comfort and restore me,
Christ beneath me, Christ above me, 
Christ in quiet, Christ in danger,
Christ in hearts of all that love me,
Christ in mouth of friend and stranger.

I bind unto myself the name,
the strong name of the Trinity,
by invocation of the same,
the Three in One, the One in Three,
of whom all nature hath creation,
eternal Father, Spirit, Word.
Praise to the Lord of my salvation;
salvation is of Christ the Lord!

This hymn sets out the richness and depth of the Christian understanding of God. The hymn begins by surveying the vast panorama of the works of God in creation—one of the great themes of Celtic Christianity. The wonders of nature are reminders that God’s presence and power undergird the world of nature.

The hymn then turns its attention to the work of God in redemption. It declares that the same God who created the world—the earth, the sea, the sun, moon, and stars—acted in Jesus Christ to redeem us.

We are thus invited to reflect upon the history of Jesus Christ: his incarnation, baptism, death, resurrection, ascension, and final coming on the last day. These powerful ideas do not displace the belief that God created the world, and maybe discerned in its wonders; it supplements this, by focusing on another area of the power and activity of God. All these, Patrick affirms, are the actions of the same God who created us and redeems us through Jesus Christ.

Yet the hymn has not quite finished; there is another aspect of the activity and presence of God to be surveyed. Again, this is not to be seen as an alternative or substitute for what is already believed; it rounds off the full and authentic Christian vision of the character and power of God. The same God who called the universe into being and redeemed us through Jesus Christ is also the God who is present with us here and now.

The hymn thus affirms that the one and the same God created the world, entered into our work, and redeemed us in Christ, and is present as a living reality in this present moment. No other account of the nature and activity of God is adequate to do justice to the Christian witness to God, and no other doctrine of God can therefore be thought of as “Christian.”[2]This hymn belongs to a tradition of songs called lorica, songs of protection sometimes called breastplate songs. The idea is that these songs are a weapon in times of spiritual warfare, drawing on the biblical imagery of the armor of God in Ephesians 6:10-18, Isaiah 59:17, and 1 Thessalonians 5:8.

Hymn of the Week: Guide Me, O Thou Great Jehovah
Glory to God: 65

Guide Me, O Thou Great Jehovah 

Text William Williams 1762
Music John Hughes 1907

Guide me, O my great Redeemer,
pilgrim through this barren land;
I am weak, but you are mighty;
hold me with your powerful hand.
Bread of heaven, bread of heaven,
feed me now and evermore,
feed me now and evermore.

Open now the crystal fountain,
where the healing waters flow.
Let the fire and cloudy pillar
lead me all my journey through.
Strong Deliverer, strong Deliverer,
ever be my strength and shield,
ever be 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 sing to you,
I will ever sing to you.

The Great Awakening of the 1700s was a heaven-sent revival to many parts of the world. In America, the preaching of George Whitefield and Jonathan Edwards renewed Christian zeal and swept multitudes of believers. In England, the open-air evangelism of Whitefield and the Wesley brothers did the same. In Wales, it was the electrifying preaching of Howell Harris and his convert William Williams.

Williams, William, of Pantycelyn, was the Sweet Singer of Wales. He was born at Cefn-y-Coed, in the Parish of Llanfair-y-bryn, near Llandovery, in 1717. He went to university and studied medicine becoming a doctor. Hearing one of Harris’ sermons, while standing on a gravestone in Talgarth churchyard, he was converted. He was ordained a deacon of the Established Church in 1740, by Dr. Claget, Bishop of St. Davids, and for three years he served the Curacies of Llan-wrtyd and Llanddewi-Abergwesyn. He never received Priest's Orders. He became early acquainted with the revivalist Daniel Rowlands, and for thirty-five years he preached once a month at Llanllian and Caio and Llansawel, besides the preaching journeys he took in North and South Wales. He was held in great esteem as a preacher. In 1744 his first book of hymns appeared under the title of Halleluiah and soon ran through three editions. In 1762, he published

another book under the title of Y Môr o Wydr, which soon went through five editions. His son John published an excellent edition of his hymns in the year 181l. In addition to his Welsh hymns, Williams also published several in English as— (1.) Hosannah to the Son of David; or, Hymns of Praise to God, For our glorious Redemption by Christ. Some few translated from the Welsh Hymn-Book, but mostly composed on new Subjects. By William Williams. Bristol: Printed by John Grabham, in Narrow-Wine Street, 1759. This contains 51 hymns of which 11 are translated from his Welsh hymns. This little book was reprinted by D. Sedgwick in 1859.

Today’s information comes to us from www.hymnary.org as well as Robert J. Morgan’s fantastic book, Then Sings My Soul 150 of the World’s Greatest Hymn Stories.

Enjoy this stirring arrangement for organ by Paul Manz.

Hymn of the Week: Bringing in the Sheaves
 

Bringing in the Sheaves

Text and Music Knowles Shaw (1834-1878)

Sowing in the morning, sowing seeds of kindness,
Sowing in the noontide and the dewy eve;
Waiting for the harvest, and the time of reaping,
We shall come rejoicing, bringing in the sheaves.

Bringing in the sheaves,
Bringing in the sheaves,
We shall come rejoicing, bringing in the sheaves;
Bringing in the sheaves,
Bringing in the sheaves,
We shall come rejoicing, bringing in the sheaves.

Sowing in the sunshine, sowing in the shadows,
Fearing neither clouds nor winter's chilling breeze;
By and by the harvest, and the labor ended,
We shall come rejoicing, bringing in the sheaves. 

Bringing in the sheaves,
Bringing in the sheaves,
We shall come rejoicing, bringing in the sheaves;
Bringing in the sheaves,
Bringing in the sheaves,
We shall come rejoicing, bringing in the sheaves.

Going forth with weeping, sowing for the Master,
Though the loss sustained our spirit often grieves;
When our weeping's over, He will bid us welcome,
We shall come rejoicing, bringing in the sheaves. 

Bringing in the sheaves,
Bringing in the sheaves,
We shall come rejoicing, bringing in the sheaves;
Bringing in the sheaves,
Bringing in the sheaves,
We shall come rejoicing, bringing in the sheaves.

This week, I want to focus on one of the most tender and beloved songs in the Protestant tradition, Bringing in the Sheaves. As harvest winds down and we enjoy the bounty of this harvest, I can’t help but think of this timeless text and lyrical tune. The text is inspired from Psalm 126:6, "He that goes forth weeping, bearing the seed for sowing, shall come home with shouts of joy, bringing his sheaves with him.

Knowles Shaw (1834-1878), a name familiar in many western households--was born near New London, in Morgan Township, Ohio, on the 13th of October, 1834. His mother's maiden name was Huldah Griffin, and by both of his parents, he was of Scottish extraction. His early life was spent in Rush County, Indiana, where he first began to play the violin, furnishing the music for many a dance. While the ball was going on he was converted, ceasing to play in the middle of the piece he was performing. Very soon thereafter he entered the ministry of the Christian Church. On the 11th of January, 1855, he married Miss Martha Finley. Most of his time after entering the ministry was spent in the West and South, and on account of his wonderful vocal powers he was called the "singing evangelist."

As a singer, he was considered, in some respects, equal to Sankey and Bliss. reporters of the press all spoke of his singing as something wonderful. Soon after beginning to preach, he began to compose and write music. His first song was "The Shining Ones," still popular. He published at different times five singing books: "Shining Pearls," "Golden Gate," "Sparkling Jewels," "The Gospel Trumpet," and the "Morning Star." "Bringing in the Sheaves" was one of the last songs from his hand.

His last meeting was held in Dallas, Texas, in May 1878. He was killed by a railroad accident, going from Dallas to McKinney, on the 7th of June, 1878. During his ministry, he baptized over eleven thousand persons.

--A History and Biographical Cyclopedia of Butler County, Ohio. Cincinnati, 1882. DNAH Archives

Hymn of the Week: Taste and See
Glory to God #520

Taste and See
Text and Music James E. Moore Jr. 1983

Taste and see, taste and see
the goodness of the Lord.
Oh, taste and see, taste and see
the goodness of the Lord, of the Lord.

I will bless the Lord at all times.
Praise shall always be on my lips;
my soul shall glory in the Lord;
for God has been so good to me. 

Taste and see, taste and see
the goodness of the Lord.
Oh, taste and see, taste and see
the goodness of the Lord, of the Lord.

Glorify the Lord with me.
Together let us all praise God's name.
I called the Lord, who answered me;
from all my troubles I was set free.

Taste and see, taste and see
the goodness of the Lord.
Oh, taste and see, taste and see
the goodness of the Lord, of the Lord.

Worship the Lord, all you people.
You’ll want for nothing if you ask.
Taste and see that the Lord is good;
in God we need put all our trust.

Taste and see, taste and see
the goodness of the Lord.
Oh, taste and see, taste and see
the goodness of the Lord, of the Lord.

As we prepare to celebrate World Communion with congregants across the globe I can’t help but be reminded of this stunning communion hymn. Enjoy the always factual and the goldmine of information about this beautiful hymn as well as the tender solo heard on YouTube.

Roman Catholic James E. Moore Jr. (b. 1951) brings the African-American gospel tradition to the Mass. He is a composer, conductor, pianist, and master teacher who currently resides in Vienna, Austria, where he serves as a professional coach and teaches voice and conducting. A native of LaCrosse, Va., he holds undergraduate degrees in both piano and vocal music education and graduate degrees in piano and choral conducting.

Dr. Moore is known for his choral conducting and leadership of congregations. His most popular songs are “Taste and See,” “I Will Be with You” and “An Irish Blessing,” all of which have been sung, recorded and appear in hymnals throughout the world. Prior to his move to Vienna, he served as director of music at St. Agnes Parish in Cincinnati, Ohio, and as assistant professor of music and liturgy at the Athenaeum of Ohio Theological Seminary.

“Taste and See” is a song to be sung during the Eucharist as people come forward to receive the communion elements. The refrain quotes Psalm 38:8a: “Taste and see that the LORD is good.” (NIV) The words are quickly memorized and Dr. Moore’s musical setting may be sung in harmony easily.

The stanzas, to be sung by a soloist, reflect the gospel style even more. Stanza one quotes Psalm 34:1-2 (Psalm 33:2-3 in the Roman Catholic Douay-Rheims Bible, 1899 edition): “I will bless the Lord at all times, his praise shall be always in my mouth. In the Lord shall my soul be praised: let the meek hear and rejoice.”

Stanza two cites Psalm 34:3-4 (Psalm 33:4-5): “O magnify the Lord with me, and let us extol his name together. I sought the Lord, and he heard me, and he delivered me from all my troubles.” Stanza 3 is a reference to Psalm 34:10 (Psalm 33:10): “Fear the Lord, all ye his saints: for there is no want to them that fear him.”

The infusion of the African-American gospel style with this text adds a celebratory tone to communion. The refrain of the psalm invites not only a spiritual feeding of the soul but also suggests that we can experience empirically the presence of God through the senses of tasting and seeing. Indeed, communion is a full-body encounter. Singing together suggests that hearing is also a part of receiving the elements as we come forward not just as individuals, but as members of the body of Christ to the table.

Written to be sung in procession, “Taste and See” allows us to join symbolically the procession of the saints—“the faithful of every time and place,” as some of the communion liturgies attest. Communion is not just a ritual of personal penitence, but a celebration with our local body of Christ, with the faithful around the world, and with the saints—a cosmic moment in the Christian experience.

* © 1983 GIA Publications. Used by permission. All rights reserved.

Dr. Hawn is a professor of sacred music at Perkins School of Theology.