GLORY AFTER THE SNOW

Besides the golden trumpets of daffodils, or the prayer-cupped petals of tulips, my yard welcomes spring with the tiny blue-star chionadoxa, better known as “Glory of the Snow.” Originally native to the mountains of Western Turkey, this member of the lily family spreads its dainty blue blossoms where the spring sun beams its welcome onto my front yard. Self-propagating, it always surprises and delights me in March as warmer weather crawls into the valley.

When I walked by my patch of these flowers one Sunday after church, I was struck by a truth they illustrated. I had sat with a friend who was widowed before I was. Behind us sat another widow, whose loss is more recent. We are navigating our spiritual “winters” of loss in our own ways. But hope—the spring of spiritual hope—is unfolding in ways unique to each of us.

In a similar way, the hope of new life through faith in Jesus seems to parallel the wakening from winters of sin and discontent. An old hymn, “I Can Hear My Savior Calling,” has been running through my mind lately. (Yes, I am a hymn-lover!) This one dates to 1890, expressing the heart of E.W. Blandy (1844-1907), a British Salvation Army officer who immigrated to an assignment in a rough New York City waterfront slum known as “Hell's Kitchen.” I wonder how many mornings he walked out the door into New York's worst neighborhood claiming that this was the place Jesus had called him to.

The hymn is the only one known to be associated with Blandy. But those who study hymn histories believe it was eventually published in more than 700 places. (One researcher claimed it was in 903 volumes.) Blandy based his hymn on two verses:

“My sheep hear my voice, and I know them, and they follow me.” (John 10:27)

“Whoever will come after me, let him deny himself, and take up his cross, and follow me” (Mark 8:34)

Some church music historians regard this hymn as “too simple.” Its verses repeat these phases after “I'll go with Him”: through the water, through the garden, to dark Calvary, to the judgment. Then it ends: “He will give me grace and glory” (repeated three times) “and go with me, with me, all the way.” But these easily remembered words were just right in expressing the Gospel message for Blandy's rough-and-tough slum-area ministry.

Little more is known about Blandly. He was just one man, reaching out to people living in wretched conditions. Folks living in the unforgiving, crime-chilled environment of inner New York. But he appealed to them, through this hymn, to listen for the call of hope of faith in Jesus Christ. And in so doing, left us this still-memorable hymn.

Listen to the hymn here: Bing Videos

Then enjoy this spring-welcoming music with a background of these spring flowers and chirping birds:

Glory-of-the-Snow Symphony ❄️? Spring Serenity & Piano ? The Beautiful Garden ? #Chionodoxa

IT'S NOT THE 'MATTRESS HYMN'!

The story behind a hymn of the faith.

Jokes aside, the hymn “How Firm a Foundation” is not about mattresses or the undergirding of a building! Instead, with noble words and tune, this well-known, well-loved hymn identifies our spiritual foundation as Jesus Christ.

How firm a foundation, ye saints of the Lord,

Is laid for your faith in His excellent Word.

What more can He say than to you He hath said,

To you who to Jesus for refuge have fled?

Despite the endurance of this stout hymn through more than two centuries (first published 1787), its true authorship has remained a bit confused. It's been attributed to a George Keith (1639?-1716), who worked in publishing. He was the son-in-law of a Dr. John Gill (1697-1771), an English Baptist pastor and scholar. However, another person connected to the hymn is “Robert Keen” (also known as Keene” or simply as “K”) who was cantor (music leader) at the Carter Lane Baptist Church in London under John Rippon, who pastored two London congregations an incredible 63 years until his death at 85.

Rippon's name is most connected with the hymn because he helped compile a Baptist hymnal to augment the already-existing hymnal by prolific hymn-writer Isaac Watts (1674-1748, credited with some 750 hymns himself).

“Fear not,” the second verse begins. Verse 3 uses the analogy of deep waters, verse 4, fiery trials. The conclusion declares:

The soul that on Jesus hath leaned for repose,

I will not—I will not desert to His foes;

That soul, though all hell shall endeavor to shake,

I'll never—no, never—no, never forsake!

Last but not least, consider its scriptural allusions:

1 Peter 1:23 (KJV): “Being born again, not of corruptible seed, but of incorruptible, by the word of God, which liveth and abideth for ever.”

Isaiah 41:10: “Fear thou not; for I am with thee: be not dismayed; for I am thy God: I will strengthen thee; yea, I will help thee; yea, I will uphold thee with the right hand of my righteousness.” This was the beloved hymn of General Robert E. Lee and has been performed at the funerals of several US politicians, including Presidents Theodore Roosevelt and Woodrow Wilson. On Christmas Eve 1898, American units engaged in the Spanish–American War joined together to sing the hymn. The members were from the North and the South.

Why its diverse popularity through the centuries? Perhaps because it express with a stout but joyful tune the assurance and joy of our salvation through Jesus Christ.

TEACH ME....

"Teach" in the title, a ruler.... reminders for
a hymn about learning God's ways

A monthly feature on a hymn of the faith.

Some big media names in our times include Gordon Ramsay, the outspoken television chef (his name spelled with two A's), and Dave Ramsey, finance advice personality (his name with an A and E). But does the name “Benjamin Mansell Ramsey” ring a bell? Probably not. Maybe the title “Teach Me Thy Way, O Lord” does.

The history of hymnody includes many who wrote just a few hymns, and one rose to the top. Such is the case for Ramsey's “Teach Me Thy Way,” Born in 1849, he was known as an organist and amateur composer in his hometown of Chichester, in England's southeast coastal county, Sussex. Hugging the shoreline of the English Channel, the city had a colorful history going back to medieval and Norman times, as a Roman and Anglo-Saxon settlement. It was also the seat of the Church of England's Diocese of Chichester, boasting a cathedral that hailed back to the 12^th Century.

Ramsey spent his life in that area, moving in music circles. He taught music at a local school, served as an officer in the local music association, and conducted local orchestras, one of which he helped establish. His musical output included a children's cantata about Robinson Crusoe and another titled “Clouds and Sunshine: A Fairy Play.” His other hymn to become better known was “Lord, Bring Some Wanderers Home.”

Little was written about his private life. His daughter Lillian was a published writer of children's books.

But what of this hymn? Perhaps its endurance is its meditative tune, and how it expressed the teachings of several Bible passages. One is 2 Timothy 4:2, Paul's last known “goodbyes” to various friends who helped him and is charge to Timothy to persevere in preaching and living out the Gospel:

Preach the word; be instant in season, out of season; reprove, rebuke, exhort with all long-suffering and doctrine.

Maybe these verses also influenced this hymn's lyrics:

Teach me thy way, O LORD, and lead me in a plain path, because of mine enemies. (Psalm 27:11)

Teach me thy way, O LORD; I will walk in thy truth: unite my heart to fear thy name. (Psalm 86:11)

Thought he suffered poor health in his old age, he organized and conducted a choral society in Chichester before dying at 74. It's worth noting that “Teach Me Thy Way” ends as he lived:

Until the race is run, until the journey's done,

Until the Crown is won; Teach me Thy Way.

Stunning photography accompanies this YouTube featuring “Teach Me Thy Way”:

Teach me Thy way, O Lord - with Lyrics - Bing video

CONTROLLING ALL I DO AND SAY....

A devotional partnership: Bible text and hymn

A monthly feature on a hymn of the faith.
 I suspect that many readers, after glancing at the above phrase, would cringe and click to another web page. Yet it's thoroughly Biblical—the theme that runs throughout Paul's letter to the Philippian Church. It's also a key phrase in a hymn by a little-known Englishwoman who spent her life helping disadvantaged women and children in London. Its title comes from the opening words: “May the mind of Christ my Savior.”

Born in middle England in 1859, Kate Barclay was raised in the Church of England. After her 1891 marriage at age 32 to Frederick Wilkinson (various resources list him as a cashier, clerk and engineer), she spent the remainder of her life in Kensington (part of London) where she was active in her parish's outreach to girls and young women. She also was part of the “deeper spiritual life” emphasis of the Keswick Convention ministry. Her only-remembered hymn, published in 1925 (three years before her death), was “May the Mind of Christ My Savior.”

The poem's music was composed by A. Cyril Barham-Gould, a priest with the Church of England who served most of his life (1936 until his death in 1953) as a vicar at the historic (and still functioning) St. Paul's Church in Onslow Square, Kensington, London. Appropriately—probably because of Mrs. Wilkinson's passion for helping at-risk women and children near the parish—the tune was titled “St. Leonard's,” for the British town named for 5^th century Leonard of Limosin, considered the patron saint of pregnant women and prisoners of war.

When I first ran across her hymn, it touched me deeply. Later I realized how much it was inspired by Philippians, my favorite book of the New Testament, especially Philippians 2:5 (“Your attitude should be the same as that of Christ Jesus,” NIV) and subsequent verses (vv. 6-11) which commentators believe was a hymn sung in the early church.

Overall, her hymn lyrics describe how to pray for the mind and love of Jesus and God's peace for our earthly journey. The pre-eminence of Christ is expressed through phrases like “Him exalting, self-abasing, this is victory.”

I can't put my finger on why I love this hymn so much. Maybe because it draws from truths of my favorite Bible book, Philippians. Or that its thoroughly Biblical message and meditative tune draw me close to God. Or that its classic hymn form reaches deeper into my spirit than many of today's shallow spiritual songs with loud and rocky rhythms. It's my prayer-song for devotional times, for being quiet and listening to God and seeking ways to live in humble obedience.

This You-Tube offers a meditative sing-along:

May the Mind of Christ My Saviour (Tune: St Leonard - 5vv) [with lyrics for congregations] - Bing video

BOUNDLESS, FREE

 A monthly column on a well-known hymn.

At some point you've probably sung the hymn whose music reminds you of powerful, rolling ocean waves. It fits the lyrics that include these about God's love:

O, the deep, deep love of Jesus,/Vast, unmeasured, boundless, free!

Rolling as a mighty ocean/In its fullness over me!

Surprisingly, these stout words of affirmation came from the pen of someone who, as a young man, nearly committed suicide. His name was Samuel Trevor Francis, and one cold, rainy winter night in 1853, at about age 19, he halted as he crossed the Hungerford Bridge of London's River Thames. Discouraged, sickly, he was about to fall over the railings to death. Instead of yielding to the inner voice that said, “End all this misery,” he reportedly heard another message, “You do believe on the Lord Jesus Christ.” Instead of jumping to his death, he affirmed, “I do believe, and I put my whole trust in Him as my Savior.” He ran across the bridge repeating the words, “Then I am saved, then I am saved!”

Born in northern suburb of London, his family moved about 200 miles north to the port city of Hull, near relatives who taught him Bible truths. At age nine, along with his brother and father, he joined the local church choir. By that time he was also writing poetry. When the family moved back to London, where he briefly apprenticed with a doctor, he encountered a group of Plymouth Brethren believers. Finding new hope after that dark night on the bridge, becoming a successful merchant, he found his spiritual passion in hymn-writing and open-air preaching through the Plymouth Brethren. His ministry included helping with music for the Dwight Moody/Ira Sankey London crusades of 1873-74.

Despite failing eyesight, he preached for 73 years around the world, having the unusual privilege of hearing some of his hymns sung. At age 92 he went into a nursing home where he soon died.

Of course, the other half of the story of his best known hymn is the dramatic music later matched to it. For that, credit Welsh musician Thomas John Williams, who brought the tune to Welsh hymnals in 1897. The tune became known as “Ebenezer” for the South Wales chapel that Williams once attended.. The name comes from the “stone of help” mentioned in 1 Samuel 7:12, commemorating the Israelites' thunder-assisted victory over the Philistines. As a footnote, another “Williams,” famed English musician and music historian Ralph Vaughan Williams, called “Ebenezer” one of history's greatest hymn tunes.

This stunning hymn video pairs a violinist and vocalist performing at a beach—appropriate for the hymn's phrase “rolling as a mighty ocean”:

Oh,The Deep Love of Jesus - Epic Version! - Bing video

FIRST THINGS

Under the category “New Year,” many traditional hymnals include one titled “Another Year is Dawning.” Its lyrics were composed by a modest, behind-the-scenes Britisher named Frances Ridley Havergal (1836-1879). Daughter of an Anglican clergyman, she lost her mother when only eleven years old. But poetry that honored God stirred within her, and she'd write the lyrics to some 100 hymns, including the better-known hymn of consecration, “Take My Life and Let It Be.” And that is how she lived—a lifelong single—letting God live within her until her early death at age 42.

The “New Year” hymn begins like this: Another year is dawning! Dear Master, let it be,/In working or in waiting, another year with thee./Another year of leaning upon thy loving breast,/Of even-deepening trustfulness, of quiet, happy rest.

I've never been much for staying up on New Year's eve until the clock struck twelve. Maybe it's weariness from all the consumerism that has come to characterize the whole Christmas season and how alcohol seems to reign in the holiday partying. Give me instead a cup of warm cocoa and a quiet place to think about the past and anticipate what God has planned for the future.

Maybe we can learn a thing or two from Jewish culture. Their “new year” celebration, “Rosh Hashanah,” one of seven Jewish “feasts,” is one of three in the autumn. The name comes from the command to blow trumpets, and traditionally the shofar (made from a ram's horn) sounds the call to pause and examine one's life before God.

And isn't that the meaning behind the Lord's Supper (“communion”) in Christian churches? And when “communion” is scheduled for late New Year's Eve, or even at midnight, a reverent, humble attitude toward God is a lot more meaningful than some huge glittering ball dropping above a crowd of revelers in an alcohol-fueled environment. It's not about the calendar going from one numbered year to another. It's about what the apostle Paul called “forgetting what is behind and straining toward what is ahead.” And in doing to, to “press on toward the call to win the prize for which God has called me heavenward in Christ Jesus” (Philippians 3:13b-14).

Or, as Miss Havergal put it, a fresh opportunity for “ever-deepening trustfulness, of quiet, happy rest.”

Join a congregation in singing this hymn:

Anotheryear is dawning - Bing video

THE OLD RUGGED CROSS

A monthly story on a hymn of the faith.

George Bennard, author of “The Old Rugged Cross,” had a rugged start in life. Born in 1873, his early years were spent in coal-mining towns in Ohio and Iowa where his father worked. He came to Christ as a youth through the ministry of the Salvation Army. But Bennard's father died when he was sixteen, and he had to return to the mines to support his mother and four sisters. Later, in his early twenties, he became a part of the Salvation Army. Carrying his Bible and guitar, he traveled the Midwest conducting revivals. He also married a fellow Salvationist, Arminta, orphaned when her mother died and her father committed suicide. The couple rented an apartment from a college professor in Albion. Michigan. In its little kitchen, he began working on a hymn about the cross. In these early years, too, he was ordained as a minister in the Methodist Episcopal Church.

In early 1913 he went on a revival preaching tour some three hundred miles across Lake Michigan at Sturgeon Bay, leaving his pregnant wife behind for two weeks of services. Whenever he had a spare moment, Bennard kept working on that hymn. He struggled with lyrics, wanting them to truly reflect the seriousness of the cross. That concern reportedly came from a deeply trying time he'd experienced in his ministry. One possibility was when youths heckled him at an earlier revival where he preached. As Bennard focused on the apostle Paul's words of entering into the fellowship of Christ's sufferings (Galatians 6:14), he realized the cross went beyond being a symbol to being the very heart of the Gospel.

Before the revivals ended, Bennard showed the hymn to his hosts. They gathered around a small organ to sing it for the first time, then sang it again for the final meeting of the revival. When the service ended with an altar call, 140 people went forward to accept Christ as Savior. Soon after, he traveled to Pokagon, Mich., for another revival meeting. There, the hymn was again sung. Then it was sung at a large convention and its popularity grew. Even evangelist Billy Sunday used it in his ministry. In 1938, a national radio network declared it to be the nation's most favorite hymn.

For forty more years Bennard participated in evangelistic ministries. He would write about 300 more Gospel songs. Toward the end of his life, he relocated to southern California for his wife's health. After her death, he remarried and returned to Michigan to live out his final years. He died in 1958—exchanging his cross from a crown--at age eighty-five.

Several cities now have memorial markers for their connection to the hymn. At Albion, Mich., near the home site where he first started writing the song in 1912, there's a historical marker. Sturgeon Bay, Wisc., has a garden with a cross for the hymn's first singing at the Friends Community Church. Pokagon, Michigan, honors its connection to the completed hymn (sung in revival services) at the now-restored church, which had fallen into disrepair in years it was used for a livestock barn and drying hops. Besides being a museum, it's used for weddings and receptions, and houses a twice-monthly “hymn sing” that closes with Bennard's hymn.

A few miles outside of Reed City, Mich., where Bennard spent his final years, there's a twelve-foot cross with the words, “The Old Rugged Cross—Home of George Bennard, composer of this beloved hymn.” The town also has a museum about his life. Near the end of his life, Bennard was interviewed about his hymn. He said writing it wasn't his greatest fulfillment. “Saving souls was my greatest thrill,” he said. “That hymn's just runner-up.”

Many country Western singers perform this hymn. Here is one from YouTube:

https://www.bing.com/videos/search?q=%22George+Bennard%22&ru=%2fvideos%2fsearch%3fq%3d%2522George%2bBennard%2522%26%26FORM%3dVDVVXX&view=detail&mid=9F4E32B3367F4D621E789F4E32B3367F4D621E78&rvsmid=C5C6759A19DB30876693C5C6759A19DB30876693&FORM=VDRVRV

The quiet story of "Silent Night"

I have a special fondness for the Christmas hymn, “Silent Night,” because its author had the surname “Mohr”—the same as my paternal grandmother, whom I never met. She died when my father was 12.I knew its origin had something to do with a broken-down organ.  Here it is—and more:

Picture yourself in Salzburg, Austria….yes, that beautiful city and the nearby breathtaking alps featured in the award-winning film, The Sound of Music, whose plot took place in World War 2.  Go back another hundred-plus years, to 1818, to a little hamlet about 15 miles north of Salzburg in the Tyrolean Alps named Obendorf. It consisted of one winding street lined with quaint cottages and shops. That year, young Josef Mohr arrived to become assistant priest at the newly-erected Church of St. Nicholas. Mohr soon made many friends, including the village schoolmaster and church organist, Franz Gruber. One day as they talked they lamented the existence of “the perfect Christmas hymn” in German.

We bought this child-friendly creche the first year
of our marriage.  Now grandchildren can play
with it as they learn the story of Jesus' birth

That particular year, a group of traveling players had arrived just before Christmas to put on a Nativity play at Mohr’s church. But the organ needed repair, so they moved the performance to the home of a local shop owner. A broken-down organ also complicated Mohr’s plans for Christmas services. How could they sing traditional carols without a booming organ to lead the way?
Mohr attended the play and was moved by its simplicity and beauty. As he walked home, he stopped at a favorite viewpoint overlooking Obendorf. Inspired by sparkling stars of that crisp night, he hurried home, lit a candle, and began writing the words to a Christmas poem. The next morning he took it to his friend Gruber, asking, “See if you can write a melody for these.” Gruber read the poem and reportedly replied, “Friend Mohr, you have it—the right song—God be praised.”

The organ couldn’t be repaired in time for Christmas, so Gruber wrote the music for guitar accompaniment. At the midnight Christmas eve service, Gruber played his guitar and sang bass. Mohr sang tenor. A young girls’ choir from the village harmonized the last two lines of each stanza.

Gruber and Mohr never intended for their carol to become famous. But when the organ builder came after the holidays to fix the organ, he heard the song being sung. He liked it, got a copy and took it to his home about eight miles away. Soon it was included in concerts throughout Austria and Germany, billed as a “Tyrolean Folk Song of unknown origin.”

Two decades after its first performance, it was performed in the United States by a group of Austrian singers. It would soon be translated into English and several other languages.

War again engulfed the world, this time what became known as World War I.  One of the officers fighting for the Germans, Walter Kirchhoff, had been a tenor with the Berlin Opera. In 1914, on a clear-cold Christmas eve night, when the shooting had stopped, Officer Kirchhoff felt moved to step forward and sing “Silent Night”—first in German, then in English. His trained voice carried far on that crisp night. The British knew the song and sang back.
Gradually, the troops crawled forward into No Man’s Land for a brief Christmas truce. Soldiers who wrote home about it said things like, “You won’t believe this. It was like a waking dream.”

Yes, a silent, holy night.