Henry Emerson Fosdick

It has been interesting to me to read about the author of "God of Grace and God of Glory." (Since this is a blog and not an academic paper, I'm relying on internet sources for biographical information.)   It's really been thought-provoking to discover the man that wrote one of my favorite hymns was apparently in serious opposition to the school of Christian thought in which I was raised.


My paternal grandfather was not particularly religious as a younger man.  I'm not quite sure how he attracted my grandmother, who was, but such things have certainly been heard of both before and since.  He continued in slightly hard-living ways until, in the mid-1920s, the aftermath of a freak accident took the life of his first child, a little four year old boy. As my grandparents walked through the grieving process, a local preacher walked with them, and his ministry persuaded my grandfather to turn to the Savior.  Both he and my grandmother were convinced of God's love and followed Him until the end of their lives. The preacher was from the local Missionary Baptist church, a movement very much a part of fundamentalism.  It was the church for those who found the Southern Baptist church too liberal. 


Henry Emerson Fosdick was a very prominent preacher in the first half of the twentieth century. While my grandfather was coming to know the Lord through the influences of a fundamentalist preacher in a small Texas Panhandle town, Harry Fosdick was proclaiming liberal theology in the great cities and churches of the northeast. He became widely known for a sermon titled "Shall the Fundamentalists Win?" which was mailed out to thousands of churches across the nation.  His liberal views and the aftermath of this sermon led to his resignation of the pastorate at a Presbyterian church and to his taking a post at Park Avenue Baptist Church in New York.  He was apparently uncomfortable with baptism by immersion being the only accepted mode of baptism, and one of his congregants, John D. Rockefeller, built a new church, Riverside Church, so that Mr. Fosdick might be able to do things his way. "God of Grace and God of Glory" was the dedicatory hymn for the new church.


Sources indicate that Mr. Fosdick was opposed to certain concepts that many evangelicals would consider deal-breakers: He held that "belief in the virgin birth was unnecessary; the inerrancy of Scripture, untenable; and the doctrine of the Second Coming, absurd." Nonetheless, he also said, "I believe in the personal God revealed in Christ, in his omnipresent activity and endless resources to achieve his purposes for us and for all men."


But while his famous sermon certainly does contain points of contention with fundamentalist teaching, his real concern was the inclination of fundamentalists to be confident that their way was the only possible way to understand scripture.  Read this outtake:

If a man is a genuine liberal, his primary protest is not against holding these opinions, although he may well protest against their being considered the fundamentals of Christianity. This is a free country and anybody has a right to hold these opinions or any others if he is sincerely convinced of them. The question is—Has anybody a right to deny the Christian name to those who differ with him on such points and to shut against them the doors of the Christian fellowship? The Fundamentalists say that this must be done. In this country and on the foreign field they are trying to do it. They have actually endeavored to put on the statute books of a whole state binding laws against teaching modern biology. If they had their way, within the church, they would set up in Protestantism a doctrinal tribunal more rigid than the pope’s.

In such an hour, delicate and dangerous, when feelings are bound to run high, I plead this morning the cause of magnanimity and liberality and tolerance of spirit. I would, if I could reach their ears, say to the Fundamentalists about the liberals what Gamaliel said to the Jews, “Refrain from these men and let them alone; for if this counsel or this work be of men, it will be everthrown; but if it is of God ye will not be able to overthrow them; lest haply ye be found even to be fighting against God.

Though I think it's unlikely I would ever embrace liberal theology, I can certainly embrace the rejection (well, if one can embrace a rejection) of doctrinal tribunals that do more harm to the cause of Christ than variations in eschatological understanding ever could. Liberal, fundamentalist, or in-between, let us make sure that nothing about our speech, writing, conduct, or thought lands us in the camp of those who "scorn Thy Christ, assail his ways."


Sources: 


Bio of Henry Emerson Fosdick at Christianity Today's Christian History site


Tribute to Fosdick by dean of chapel at Mt. Holyoke


Wikipedia

Free Our Hearts

Lo! the hosts of evil ’round us,


Scorn Thy Christ, assail His ways.


From the fears that long have bound us,


Free our hearts to faith and praise.


Grant us wisdom, grant us courage,


For the living of these days,


For the living of these days.

A few random thoughts as I contemplate this stanza:

There can be no question that the hosts of evil continue to scorn the LORD's Christ and assail his ways.  And certainly Jesus let his disciples know straight out that they would be ridiculed and persecuted for his name's sake.  When that happens, we are blessed.  But I think that sometimes we may be a bit too quick to assume that opposition and resistance we may meet with are indeed for his name's sake.  Sometimes we are ridiculed because we say and do stupid things.   We are not promised a reward in heaven for that.  So when faced with opposition, be careful to consider whether what's being assailed is Christ's ways or my own bad judgment.

For several weeks, I have met with song after song and Bible reading after reading and sermon after sermon about being free from fear.  Here's another mention, and here's another angle. I get that fear means I'm not trusting, and I get that fear interferes with action.  If I'm scared, I don't go do.  But Mr. Fosdick's lyrics here bring up another problem to consider.  Does fear keep me from worship?  Can I truly praise if I'm not trusting?  That's a very good question. Lord, let me see where the barriers I have to worship are rooted in fear. Grant me widsom for the living of these days.

Rich Man, Poor Man

Cure Thy children’s warring madness,


Bend our pride to Thy control.


Shame our wanton selfish gladness,


Rich in things and poor in soul.


Grant us wisdom, grant us courage,


Lest we miss Thy kingdom’s goal,


Lest we miss Thy kingdom’s goal.

A couple of years ago, I made "God of Grace and God of Glory" the hymn of the month in our homeschool.  I hadn't really learned more than a couple of stanzas back when I was in churches that sang this song, so when I came to this third stanza, it was as if I were reading it for the first time (and of course, I might have been) and it made a deep impression on me.

I think that this stanza of this song is perhaps the most accurate summation of much of contemporary Christianity that exists.  Selfish gladness. Rich in things and poor in soul.  Warring madness. Prideful.  Missing the kingdom's goal.

I don't think the world needs me to expound upon instances of all these things in today's Christians.  There are many people who are more than happy to do that. But the way in which Mr. Fosdick captured the Laodicean problem* is succinct and striking. And then again the stanza ends with the call for wisdom and courage, lest we miss the kingdom's goal.  There's a lot of stuff in this verse that'll preach, so I'll leave it to the preachers.  But if you've stumble by here and are unfamiliar with this song, please take a few moments to consider these words.

*Somehow I failed to recognize the lyrics of a contemporary worship song, "Light the Fire Again," as coming fairly directly from the letter to the church in Laodicea found in the Revelation.  I certainly was keenly aware of Laodicea in my growing up years.  I could have told you all about being lukewarm and being spewed out.  But either the preacher didn't make it down to the solution very often or I just wasn't paying enough attention, because those verses are not nearly as familiar to me as those stating the problem. "I counsel you to buy from me gold refined in the fire, so you can become rich; and white clothes to wear, so you can cover your shameful nakedness; and salve to put on your eyes, so you can see." "Buying gold refined in the fire" is going to take some study and meditation. I'm not quite sure if I'm getting that.

For the Facing of This Hour

I referred in a previous post to attending different breeds of churches through the years.  I grew up Baptist and attended Baptist churches until I married my husband, the interloper.  As anyone who knows anything about Baptists knows, there are many different families in the Baptist tribe.  My earliest years were in Southern Baptist churches.  Fourth grade through high school (and then summers at home) were spent in a fundamentalist independent Baptist church associated with what was then called the Baptist Bible Fellowship.  (I have no idea whether they still call themselves that.)  I attended a Southern Baptist college and so attended SBC churches through college and until I married.


Because we were independent Baptists, we did not use the Baptist Hymnal. This departure from and then return to the Baptist Hymnals had a noticeable effect on my knowledge base in regard to hymns.  We sang things in the independent church that weren't in the Baptist Hymnal, and when I got to college I found myself singing things that I vaguely remembered from young childhood but hadn't sung for nearly 10 years. 


And then there were, of course, songs that were part of the Baptist Hymnal that I had probably never sung in my life or at least had entirely forgotten.  One of these was "God of Grace and God of Glory," by Henry Emerson Fosdick.


This hymn was one that struck a chord with me at once.  Something about both language and melody just grabbed me. (We didn't sing "Guide Me, O Thou Great Jehovah," to this tune or any other, in the BBF church, so the tune was new to me as well.) 


The first time I stayed at school long enough after May finals to attend commencement, I learned that "God of Grace and God of Glory" was the hymn used each year at graduation.  I found that very touching, and of course having the song associated with a tradition from a beloved institution only endeared it to me more.


I also thought that whoever selected it as the commencement hymn chose well.  What an appropriate thought for those getting ready to move into a new phase of life:

God of grace and God of glory,


On Thy people pour Thy power.


Crown Thine ancient church’s story,

Bring her bud to glorious flower.


Grant us wisdom, grant us courage,


For the facing of this hour,


For the facing of this hour.

As life goes on, I have, of course, met with many more times that required a blessing of wisdom and courage in order to face the hour.  So far, most of mine have related to the work of parenting. But the thought is appropriate to so many situations. Economic recession.  Political change. Loss of loved ones. War. Job loss. Uncertain health. 

And perhaps facing uncertain times with wisdom and courage is not important only for ourselves.  What we believe lived out in how we behave will affect how the Lord's church is perceived.  Wisdom and faith and courage as we face the challenging hour will show His power and bring glory to the Lord. 

Hymns Ancient and Modern: What Makes the Cut?

For several years, it has been not the least bit unusual for CCM artists to include recordings of traditional hymns and gospel songs on their albums, either as a dedicated hymn album or as part of a more general release.  The Hymns recordings by Second Chapter of Acts in the late 1980's and "Our Hymns" back in 1991 are some of the first of these recordings I became aware of.  These songs generally used the tunes that are commonly sung in church music and punched them up, rocked them out, or otherwise contemporized them. At the very least, they sang the song and added some drums. Voila. A CCM hymn.

But these settings, if used in churches, were more likely to be aimed at soloists.  In more recent years, writers of contemporary worship music have been using traditional songs that are made more current and are more suitable for congregational use. Various Passion recordings, most especially Hymns Ancient and Modern, come to mind.

As I've heard more of these, I have sometimes been surprised that one song or another has been reintroduced in an altered form. It's caused me to speculate on what makes a hymn survive more intact with its traditional tune as opposed to getting a new melody to accompany the older poetry of the lyrics. How do the powers that record decide which hymns make the contemporary worship cut?

Good writing is good writing, and writing that spoke very meaningfully about the relationship between Father, Son and Holy Spirit and man or about the human condition in 1785 still speaks meaningfully today.  Sometimes some language may need to be brought up a bit to date, but the depth of the poetry allows it to begin to take on at least some degree of timelessness.

But what about the music?  When to preserve and when to rewrite?  I think there are some songs that a pretty good plurality of folks would agree sound dated so that a putting a fresh tune on great poetry creates a great new song.  I'm speculating, but I would suppose that sometimes an artist has written a tune but hasn't come up with lyrics yet, and someone sees the potential for marrying the tune to an existing hymn. I wonder how many times a contemporary artist actually sets out to write a new tune for an existing lyric.  Having no connections in the industry, I suppose I'll just be left to my speculation.

At any rate, I seem to find myself often turning the idea of datedness over in my mind.  I've heard a friend refer to a song as "surprisingly contemporary" when it was one whose tune I found dated indeed.  I wonder whether there are any musical earmarks that make certain tunes seem long in the tooth while others continue to be loved even after centuries.  I have no answer, but I would be interested to know if there's some sort of measure of datedness.

And I would love to know what other people think about this subject?  Have you ever heard a contemporary version of a traditional song that you wished they'd left alone?  Have you heard any that you thought were a marked improvement over the tune you grew up knowing? What's an old favorite that you think would make a great candidate for a contemporary worship makeover?

If the Son Sets You Free

O that day when freed from sinning,


I shall see Thy lovely face;


Clothèd then in blood washed linen


How I’ll sing Thy sovereign grace;


Come, my Lord, no longer tarry,


Take my ransomed soul away;


Send thine angels now to carry


Me to realms of endless day.

This final stanza was another with which I was previously unacquainted.  I guess that's not surprising.  Death isn't nearly as popular a topic for worship songs as is was 150-200 years ago.  But I think it's still a perfectly valid topic.  Isn't eternal life, even when this poor lisping stammering tongue lies silent in the grave, what our hope is?  This stanza doesn't impress me as being at all morbid.  Rather, the author is again looking forward, as he has mentioned before, to being released from this body of sin and death. 

It does certainly go against our cultural grain to think of death as a consummation devoutly to be wished.  I know that I certainly don't think that way. I want to see my children grow up. I want to have grandchildren.  I want to see my grandchildren grow up! I want to accomplish this or that.  And those aren't bad at all.  Obviously the Lord wants us to live our lives and do things and bless people and glorify him.

But thinking about this stanza, in combination with some other things I've read in recent days, has brought me to the realization that there is something in me that wants the Lord to wait until I've become a better person.  There is something in me, apparently, that still clings to the idea that I can improve myself and get good.  Clearly, I need delivered.

So for right now, though I would love to be finally and completely freed from sinning and to see His lovely face, I can't say that I'm truly eager.  I hope I will be.  I hope I'll be able to truly echo Paul:

For to me, to live is Christ and to die is gain. If I am to go on living in the body, this will mean fruitful labor for me. Yet what shall I choose? I do not know! I am torn between the two: I desire to depart and be with Christ, which is better by far;  -- Phillipians 1:21-23

Even so, come!

The Wanderer

O to grace how great a debtor

Daily I’m constrained to be!

Let Thy goodness, like a fetter,

Bind my wandering heart to Thee.

Prone to wander, Lord, I feel it,

Prone to leave the God I love;

Here’s my heart, O take and seal it,

Seal it for Thy courts above.

Surely one of the reasons this hymn is so loved is the pure honesty of it.  The author admits what we know to be true of ourselves. “I love you, Lord, but I’ve blown it before, and I’m pretty sure I’m going to blow it again.  Save me! Keep me close to you.”

I referred in the last post to the poem “The Hound of Heaven”. Though I had heard the phrase, I wasn’t at all familiar with the poem of that name. When I read its opening lines, I couldn’t help think of this stanza and wonder whether its author, Francis Thompson, had become acquainted with this hymn. He wrote:

I fled Him down the nights and down the days

I fled Him down the arches of the years

I fled Him down the labyrinthine ways

Of my own mind, and in the midst of tears

I hid from him, and under running laughter.

Up vistaed hopes I sped and shot precipitated

Adown titanic glooms of chasmed fears

From those strong feet that followed, followed after.


The author of "Come, Thou Fount of Every Blessing", Robert Robinson, evidently was well-acquainted with wandering.  The biographical information I've found about him indicated he had a fairly rough and misspent youth, but was converted through the preaching of George Whitefield and the influences of Methodism.  He became a minister himself, but some speculate that perhaps life continued to be rocky.  A story told on Cyberhymnal suggests rough times in the faith:

One day, he encountered a woman who was studying a hymnal, and she asked how he liked the hymn she was humming. In tears, he replied, “Madam, I am the poor unhappy man who wrote that hymn many years ago, and I would give a thousand worlds, if I had them, to enjoy the feelings I had then.

Lord, rather than fleeing you down the labyrinthine ways of my own mind, let your goodness bind my wandering heart to you until I see you face to face.

Looking for Me

The third of the original stanzas of "Come, Thou Fount" begins with familiar lines and then concludes with ones that were previously unknown to me.


Jesus sought me when a stranger,
Wandering from the fold of God;
He, to rescue me from danger,
Interposed His precious blood;
How His kindness yet pursues me
Mortal tongue can never tell,
Clothed in flesh, till death shall loose me
I cannot proclaim it well.


-- For the Son of Man came to seek and to save the lost. Luke 19:10


What a beautiful story!  Even while we were sinners, Jesus sought for us and died for us, and still His kindness pursues us and leads us to repentance. Sometimes it stretches credulity, but I am so glad that Jesus loves even me.


How loving is the pursuit by the Hound of Heaven! To know that He sought this wandering sheep, that He laid down his life for me, that He desires my fellowship even now.  Indeed, I cannot proclaim it well.

There Is a Time to Sing

In the interest of going to bed earlier than I have been but still posting each day, I think now is the time for a little music. Let's hear from Jadon Lavik.



And be sure and listen to the words!

Here I Raise My What?

The second verse of "Come, Thou Fount" contains a name that probably produces more fleeting moments of unrecognition than any other reference in songs widely in current use.  Yes, we've all been raising our Ebenezer for years, but I would venture to guess that on any given Sunday, the vast majority of congregants singing this song have a nothing more than brief image of their favorite movie version of Scrooge pop into their heads when the second verse comes along. If the congregation is singing out of an actual hymnal, it might have a footnote indicating that Ebenezer means "stone of help", so someone might be able to learn that piece of trivia in passing, but not much more.

In fact, the assumption that people will not connect with this allusion has sometimes led to Ebenezer being written out of the song altogether. Here, Christianity Today contributor Gary Parrett comments on the value of preserving  traditional hymn lyrics, including this one.

The story of Ebenezer begins in I Samuel 4.  When the prophet and judge Samuel was still a boy or young man serving in the temple of the LORD, the Israelites were at war with the Philistines. They had faced one serious defeat, and in an attempt to avert a second disaster, took it upon themselves to have the ark of the covenant brought to the battle. This unauthorized movement of the ark resulted in defeat, the death of the sone of the priest Eli, and the capture of the ark.

The ark of the covenant does not make for a good battle trophy. Instead of parading it in triumphs through the land, the Philistines ended up passing it from town to town in hopes of escaping the curses that seemed to befall those in custody of the ark. Eventually, they latched the ark to a cow wagon and sent it on its way. It came to rest in a place called Kiriath Jearim, where it remained for some 20 years. 

During the course of those decades, Israel had circled back to a state of repentance and longing for redemption.  The LORD showed mercy, and when the Philistines had come against the Hebrew camp, the LORD threw the enemy into confusion by dint of a thunder storm, and handed the victory to the Israelites.

This action apparently took place at pretty much the same location as the disastrous battle that resulted in the loss of the ark. How poignant then when Samuel memorialized the battle by raising a stone marker. He named it Ebenezer, saying, “Thus far the LORD has helped us.” Where God had previously brought about there defeat, there now stood a marker commemorating His help.


So let this lyric encourage you to look for the Ebenezers of your own walk with God.  Think of times where you were defeated but now, as one who is more than conqueror through Him who loved us, stand in victory.  Commemorate and celebrate the places and times where thus far the LORD has helped you and remember those times the next time you sing about Ebenezer.

Here Thy Praises I'll Begin

As I prepared to create a few posts centered around "Come, Thou Fount of Every Blessing," I turned to my favorite source for hymn lyrics, Cyberhymnal.  It's certainly not unusual to find that a hymn I've know all my life has lyrics I've never heard, and sometimes stanzas and stanzas of them. "Come, Thou Fount" is a case where parts of some of the original stanzas were omitted and the remainders combined into a new stanza.


Cyberhymnal renders the second stanza thusly:


Sorrowing I shall be in spirit,
Till released from flesh and sin,
Yet from what I do inherit,
Here Thy praises I’ll begin;
Here I raise my Ebenezer;
Here by Thy great help I’ve come;
And I hope, by Thy good pleasure,
Safely to arrive at home.


Who has not known this struggle? It is the essence of trying to live a Christian life with a soul that is cursed by sin, with a heart that is desperately wicked, with a mind that needs dramatically transformed, with strength that is easily spent on the cares of the world.


^{Romans 7:21} So I find this law at work: Although I want to do good, evil is right there with me. ²² For in my inner being I delight in God’s law; ²³ but I see another law at work in me, waging war against the law of my mind and making me a prisoner of the law of sin at work within me. ²⁴ What a wretched man I am! Who will rescue me from this body that is subject to death? ²⁵ Thanks be to God, who delivers me through Jesus Christ our Lord!


^{Psalm 42:5} Why, my soul, are you downcast?
   Why so disturbed within me?
Put your hope in God,
   for I will yet praise him,
   my Savior and my God.


Paul and David knew the struggle, and yet clearly they knew salvation and the One who saves.  Thus even though we await a final rescue from this body, "Here Thy praises I'll begin."

Tune My Heart to Sing Thy Praise

Come, Thou Fount of Every Blessing has been one of my favorite hymns for as long as I can remember. I think that perhaps, lyrically, the first verse really appeals to musicians and other music lovers. "Tune my heart," "melodious sonnets sung by flaming tongues above."  Those lines summon up the passion music can elicit in us and provide an image that brings to mind the visions of Isaiah and Ezekiel and John. We can sing those songs and almost hear the brush of the wings of the creatures saying constantly, "Holy, holy, holy is the LORD Almighty."


The other morning as I lay in bed hoping for inspiration to strike so that I could post something here in order to continue my press toward (nearly) 30 days of consistency on this blog, the phrase "tune my heart" grabbed my attention.  I suppose my overall understanding of that line has been as a plea for God's spirit to secure my attention, to help me conquer distraction, to focus on God's grace, and to make my heart inclined toward praise.  


But that morning, I suddenly wondered why I had never seen a connection between that phrase and the tuning up of a musical instrument before playing.  I am a violinist, and I would no more play the instrument without checking its tuning than I would go to the store in my pajamas. It's an essential part of preparation.


What is necessary for tuning to take place, and what is accomplished by the tuning process? First, tuning requires a standard.  I can take my violin and make it be in tune with itself.  I could then play something on it that would sound okay, but if I were to then attempt to play with another person, I would find out that I just wasn't quite right. The other players and I would not be producing something beautiful unless we were in tune with each other.


So a first step in having our hearts tuned for worship is having a standard.  A few Biblical standards jump to mind. "Be holy for I am holy." "Be perfect for your Father in heaven is perfect." "Let this mind be in you which was also in Christ Jesus." Our efforts to tune our lives and hearts to the standard of his example can only serve to make our corporate worship more wholehearted, more unified, and more beautiful in the sight of Him whom we are praising. Surely tuning our hearts by becoming more like Jesus makes us more eager to draw near to and build up the saints, to love one another and bear one another's burdens and "do life together".


So tuning requires that a standard be recognized.  It also requires that each individual instrument becomes aligned with that standard. How does that happen?  How does I tune my flat 430 Hz  A string so that it meets a standard 440 Hz?  Well, I stretch it.  I turn a peg, and that stretches the string so that it can sound the proper pitch. The tension on the string is increased.


That suggests to me that tuning my heart to sing His grace will result in times of stretching and increased tension. Unfortunately, sometimes I will resist this. I will be like the string whose peg slips back into its accustomed place, with the result that everything done on that string is just a little flat.  Things might not be awful, but they won't be what they could be. The stretching process is what brings me up to the standard. The pain of the stretching will be what increases faith, and what makes me constantly more aware of the streams of never-ceasing mercy, and recognizing that mercy more and more will certainly result in songs of loudest praise. 

His the Loving Purpose Solely

Revisiting the entry I posted yesterday has caused me to reflect on another hymn that has been meaningful to me at a few different times in my life.

A Swedish poet and hymn writer named Lina Sandell Berg is credited, according to a very cursory Internet search, with writing at least 650 hymns. (My first thought? Oh, so she’s a Swedish Fanny Crosby. And sure enough, the next several sites I visited referred to her by that nickname.) I am apparently familiar with very few of them, but dearly love one translated into the song we know as "Children of the Heav’nly Father."

I didn't really grow up with that song. I think it may have been used some in the Southern Baptist churches we attended in my early childhood, but it was not used in the independent Baptist church that I was in from fourth grade until I left home.

I first became truly aware of the song, then, toward the end of my high school career. The top choir at my high school had several joint performances with our orchestra that year, and I learned that it was a tradition for them to perform "Children of the Heav’nly Father" at the conclusion of every concert. The combination of the simple, lovely folk tune and the moving lyrics captured me at once.

I think that because of the inclusion of the word "children" in the title, the song perhaps gets relegated to a children's song, and I think that over the years of college, grad school, and early marriage, I only heard it a scant handful of times. But when I became an expectant mother, the song became a part of my life.

I'm sure many of us decide to try little experiments that we hope will have an impact on our unborn children. In my case, I decided I would pick one hymn to sing to my belly in hopes that that song would provide a calming influence on the baby after he joined the outside world. The song I picked for my first-born was “Children of the Heav’nly Father.”

Children of the heav’nly Father


Safely in His bosom gather;


Nestling bird nor star in Heaven


Such a refuge e’er was given.

As a young mother, I was also touched by the parental image of the second verse:

God His own doth tend and nourish;

In His holy courts they flourish;

From all evil things He spares them;


In His mighty arms He bears them.

I continued to sing the song around the house as our family grew. (And yes, I did think my oldest responded to that song when he was an infant, but we obviously can’t prove these things.) It never seemed to become anyone’s favorite but mine, but it continued to be a moving song for me.

When I was about 5 weeks away from delivering my fourth child, my sister announced that she was at last pregnant with their long-hoped-for second child. Unhappily, things did not go according to plan, and her little daughter was born prematurely and died from post-operative infection 2 ½ weeks after her birth. When my husband, infant son, and I went out for the baby’s funeral, most of the arrangements had been taken care of. One of the few details was to find a song for the music minister to sing at the graveside service. A few titles had been suggested, but they weren’t seeming quite right to her. I believe the Lord brought this song to mind. She looked it up, and after a few seconds’ thought, decided upon it. The next two verses are particularly poignant given the circumstances:

Neither life nor death shall ever


From the Lord His children sever;


Unto them His grace He showeth,


And their sorrows all He knoweth.

Though He giveth or He taketh,


God His children ne’er forsaketh;


His the loving purpose solely


To preserve them pure and holy.

And thus this hymn, which I came to love because of its sweet, almost maternal nature, has become bound in my heart with feelings of love and sorrow and hope and trust, feelings I still experience whenever I sing it. May I have the faith to always believe His promise to never leave us nor forsake us and trust His work in preserving and sanctifying us.

Apples or Vinegar?

I actually wrote this post well over a year ago. I originally published it as a facebook note and thought that I included it on this blog. However, I suppose at the time I was still thinking of this blog, which I wasn't ever writing in, as being about hymns, so included it on my general blog instead. Since I gave in and expanded the lyrical scope here, I've decided to give this post yet another place of its own.

A word aptly spoken is like apples of gold in settings of silver. -- Proverbs 25:11

God is good all the time. We use that phrase so often, and yet I think much of the time we misuse it. Most of the time when I hear people say it, they really seem to be saying, “I am currently perceiving God as kind. He has chosen to work things out the way I wanted Him to.” But in scriptural terms, the goodness of God does not refer to His kindness, and certainly not to whether or not we are happy with His works. It refers to his moral goodness. One of the challenges of the Christian life, of the life of faith is to trust that God is indeed acting out of moral goodness even when those actions hurt terribly and make us rail and scream against the pain and hurt.

Seven years ago today, I walked into what was, for the rest of the congregation, a typical Sunday morning service. For me, it was not. My husband and I had returned just the evening before from the funeral and burial of my infant niece. As I was going through the motions of participating in the singing, I had to give up when the congregation sang “God Is Good All the Time” (Moen). We sang that song many times at that church, and I’ve really hated it ever since and will be content if I never hear it again.

Now, to be fair to Don Moen, his song does acknowledge that life is not a bowl of cherries:

If you’re walking through the valley

And there are shadows all around

Do not fear; He will guide you

He will keep you safe and sound

‘Cause He’s promised to never leave you

Nor forsake you and His Word is true

But the song itself is a very upbeat, clappy, happy, almost pep rally kind of tune. Hearing that song in a time of sorrow was not an apple of gold. Instead, it called to mind a different proverb in that same chapter:

Like one who takes away a garment on a cold day, or like vinegar poured on soda is one who sings songs to a heavy heart. -- Proverbs 25:20

Early on when we came to our present church, I was introduced to “Blessed Be Your Name” by Matt Redman. My very first reaction to this song 3 ½ years ago was, “Now if I’d run into this song after Bethany’s death, I could have appreciated it.” It was, especially in comparison, truly an apple of gold in a setting of silver.

When the darkness closes in, Lord, still I will say, “Blessed be the name of the Lord.”

Blessed be your name on a road marked with suffering. Though there’s pain in the offering, blessed be Your name.

You give and take away; My heart will choose to say, “Blessed be Your Name.”

In other words, God is good all the time.

Today our church gathered to bury a beloved member and shepherd, and this song was one of the ones sung at his memorial service. It it tragic to think of his wife and daughters, especially the one still at home, deprived of his care and support. We hate the hole left in his community by his absence. We can’t imagine walking into church week after week and never seeing his smile or being caught up in his formidable embrace. But as he no doubt learned through the heartbreaking life and loss of his own infant daughter, God is good all the time. The Lord gave, and the Lord has taken away. Blessed be the name of the Lord.