AS WE MOVE INTO A NEW WEEK AND THE TIME OF THE PASSOVER AND FEAST OF UNLEAVENED BREAD, I AM WARMED IN HEART AT THE STATS FROM AROUND THE WORLD. MAY THE TWO SPRING FEASTS OF THE LORD BE A MIGHTY BLESSING TO ALL WHO KNOW AND ALL WHO WANT TO KNOW, THE TRUTH THEY PROCLAIM.
Sunday, April 2, 2023
PASSOVER--- SPIRITUAL SONGS #11
And Can It Be?
Charles Wesley, 1707-88
And can it be that I should gain
An interest in the Savior's blood?
Died he for me, who caused his pain?
For me, who him to death pursued?
Amazing love! How can it be
That thou, my God, shouldst die for me?
"And Can It Be?" is a conversion testimony that has grown more popular in recent years—and this despite its daunting first verse, which is difficult both grammatically and theologically.
This song relates the conversion story of an okay guy, not your typical loathsome wretch. Wesley was the son of a preacher, an Oxford graduate, an ordained Anglican clergyman, a world traveler-—-having spent five months in the New World colony of Georgia as secretary and chaplain to Gov. James Oglethorpe. Though he knew about God—-and something of "the world"—he did not know God or the freedom that comes when God releases one's spirit from bondage. Something primal was missing, until May 21, 1738.
It was Pentecost Sunday. A sick Wesley was the houseguest of an uneducated but spiritually astute Mr. Bray of London. Charles had been reading writings of Martin Luther, the proponent of salvation by grace through faith, not by righteous deeds. Wesley's journal tells the story:
"AT midnight I gave myself up to Christ: assured I was safe, sleeping or waking. Had continued experience of his power to overcome all temptations; and confessed, with joy and surprise, that he was able to do exceedingly abundantly for me, above what I can ask or think.
I now found myself at peace with God, and rejoiced in hope of loving Christ. Under his protection I waked next morning, and rejoiced in reading the 107th Psalm, so nobly describing what God had done for my soul.
At nine I began [to write] a hymn on my conversion but was persuaded to break off for fear of pride. Mr. Bray coming, encouraged me to proceed in spite of Satan. I prayed to Christ to stand by me and I finished the hymn."
—the first of some six thousand he would pen.
Some scholars think this cited conversion hymn was "Where Shall My Wondering Soul Begin?" (better known in Britain than in the States). But others give clear arguments for it being "And Can It Be?"—which was surely an early hymn, as it was published by year-end.
Three days after Charles's conversion, his brother John similarly gave himself to Christ while attending a Moravian meeting. "I felt my heart strangely warmed," he wrote of his surrender.
With several friends in tow, John barged in on Charles, still recuperating, and announced, "I believe!" And then, Charles reported, "We sang the hymn with great joy." "The hymn" is presumably the testimony of amazement written earlier in the week:
Amazing love! How can it be
That thou, my God, shouldst die for me?
Long my imprisoned spirit lay Fast bound in sin and nature's night . . . My chains fell off, my heart was free, I rose, went forth, and followed thee.
Even a man previously committed to a life of Christian service needed to admit that he was spiritually bound in a dark prison, until the atoning work of Christ broke through the barriers, until Wesley reached out to accept the freedom freely offered. (It's a freedom described in Psalm 107—the psalm Charles read the morning after his conversion: "He brought them out of darkness and the deepest gloom / and broke away their chains" [v. 14].)......
Reach for the freedom offered in Christ. If you've already claimed it, then reclaim and proclaim it.
How can it be?
Through Christ, it is.
Lord, make me newly amazed at the wonder of your love for me.
From the book "Spiritual Moments with the Great Hymns" by Evelyn Bence.
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The Passover time is the time to renew our walk with the Lord, to examine ourselves, to admit we are still sinners, in need of the sacrifice of Christ, and His work as our High Priest in heaven, interceding for us.....read 1 John chapter one and the beginning of chapter 2. And so we never get complacent about it all, God the Father gives us the Passover and Feast of Unleavened Bread once EVERY year.
Keith Hunt
1 And can it be that I should gain
An int'rest in the Savior's blood?
Died He for me, who caused His pain?
For me, who Him to death pursued?
Amazing love! how can it be
That Thou, my God, should die for me?
Refrain:
Amazing love! how can it be
That Thou, my God, should die for me!
2 'Tis mystery all! Th'Immortal dies!
Who can explore His strange design?
In vain the firstborn seraph tries
To sound the depths of love divine!
'Tis mercy all! let earth adore,
Let angel minds inquire no more. [Refrain]
3 He left His Father's throne above,
So free, so infinite His grace;
Emptied Himself of all but love,
And bled for Adam's helpless race;
'Tis mercy all, immense and free;
For, O my God, it found out me. [Refrain]
4 Long my imprisoned spirit lay
Fast bound in sin and nature's night;
Thine eye diffused a quick'ning ray,
I woke, the dungeon flamed with light;
My chains fell off, my heart was free;
I rose, went forth and followed Thee. [Refrain]
5 No condemnation now I dread;
Jesus, and all in Him is mine!
Alive in Him, my living Head,
And clothed in righteousness divine,
Bold I approach th'eternal throne,
And claim the crown, through Christ my own. [Refrain]
Amen.
Saturday, April 1, 2023
PASSOVER--- SPIRITUAL SONGS #10
As Pants the Hart
Nahum Tate, 1652 -1715.
and Nicholas Brady, 1659-1726
As pants the hart for cooling streams When heated in the chase,
So longs my soul, O God, for thee, And thy refreshing grace.
Years ago I noticed in print a misquoted Psalm 42:1. In the King James Version the verse reads, "As the hart panteth after the water brooks, so panteth my soul after thee, O God." Not realizing that hart is an outdated word for deer, the writer had typed, "As the heart panteth after the water...." The editor in me cringed at the mistake; it made the Bible verse redundant at best, at worst, nonsensical. But the more I thought about it, the more tolerant I grew. On some ethereal plane, the skewed connection was understandable; it maybe even worked.The English language provides a tidy play on words. The hart and heart are thirsty.
As staid as it now seems, singing the Nahum Tate and Nicholas Brady paraphrase of Psalm 42 was too revolutionary for some British churchmen of the late seventeenth century who held to a long-standing prohibition of congregational singing of any songs but stricdy translated psalms. They disapproved, for instance, of the heated hunter's chase in line 2 that draws out one's imagination; this is a capital-letter thirst.
Poets ancient and modern have recognized the power of the image: "I'm thirsty."
In her poem "The Prayer" Sharon Olds lays out a capital-letter scene. A young girl sits in a veterinarian's waiting room. Behind a closed door, her sick pet gerbils are being "put to sleep." The poem portrays subtle signs of distress; the girl doesn't cry; she doesn't talk about her gerbils, her loss, her first encounter with death; she doesn't name her feelings; she quietly repeats only one phrase: "I'm thirsty I'm thirsty," as if her sun-dried soul were panting, praying, for the water of life.
Psalm 42 itself does not promise the clear, flowing streams that will rehydrate the sin-dried soul. But Jesus picked up on the image when speaking to a woman drawing water from a well at his request: "If you knew the gift of God and who it is that asks you for a drink, you would have asked him and he would have given you living water" (John 4:10).
If you knew what God offers, you would ask for a drink. You would gasp, "I'm thirsty. God, my soul pants for you."
Isaiah 44:3 also promises fulfillment for the soul who longs for God. Lucy Bider paraphrases the verse:
I [God] will pour water on him who is thirsty, I will pour floods upon the dry ground.
And then she adds a personal invitation reminiscent of Jesus' in John 4; here's how to ask for the gift of having water:
Open your heart for the gift I am bringing, While ye are seeking me, I will be found.
The eternal God offers the refreshing drink. Ask and receive. Take and drink.
Lord, you have promised to quench the thirst of those who turn to you and ask you for living water. I'm thirsty. Fill my cup, please, and I will drink.
From the book "Spiritual Moments with the Great Hymns" by Evelyn Brence.
..............................
1. As pants the hart for cooling streams
when heated in the chase,
so longs my soul, O God, for thee
and thy refreshing grace.
2. For thee, my God, the living God,
my thirsty soul doth pine;
oh when shall I behold thy face,
thou majesty divine?
3. Why restless, why cast down, my soul?
Trust God, who will employ
sure aid for thee, and change these sighs
to thankful hymns of joy.
4. God of my strength, how long shall I,
like one forgotten, mourn,
forlorn, forsaken and exposed
to my oppressor's scorn?
5. Why restless, why cast down, my soul?
Hope still, and thou shalt sing
praise to thy God, the living God,
thy health's eternal spring.
PASSOVER---- SPIRITUAL SONGS #9
Sacred Head Now Wounded
Bernard of Clairvaux,. 1091-1153 trans, and verse k added by James Waddell Alexander, 1804-59
What language shall I borrow To thank thee, dearest Friend, For this thy dying sorrow, Thy pity without end?
Before I knew her, Maggie worked in the theater: teaching, acting, directing, producing. But somewhere on the West Coast, the talent fogged in. Giving a dramatic reading in front of a college class, she stopped cold, overwhelmed with unexplainable panic.
That attack spawned others until fear pervaded her life. As for her career, when I met Maggie, she worked as a secretarial temp. She hadn't performed for four years, grounded by the terror of feeling out of control. As for her personal life, she drove little—-went to great lengths to avoid bridges or inter-states. And escalators—they might as well have been mountain cliffs.
The fear held on for nearly ten years before it lost its grip. Maggie made a few bold ventures up and down a shopping-mall escalator, driving over a bridge. She celebrated a few small victories. And then God broke through with the words of a song often sung ..... "O Sacred Head Now Wounded." Most of the words are attributed to Bernard of Clairvaux, a medieval saint. But the fourth verse is comparatively new, written in 1830 by James Waddell Alexander, a Presbyterian pastor in Trenton, New Jersey. For Maggie, that "addition," sung by her congregation .... was the clincher—and the clench-releaser.
"What language shall I borrow?" The line spoke to the magnitude of Maggie's need, which she saw as being beyond description in her own language. She found it impossible to articulate the paralysis brought on by a panic attack.
The line also helped her lay claim to the knowledge that God is beyond words. "His love and grace is indescribable— and greater than my confusion," she says. More than that, it helped her reach a new gratitude for the ability to make small steps toward recovery.
Several weeks ago I went to a movie with Maggie-—-and she was the one assuring me that I was not likely to trip down the escalator and break my skull. And she's back teaching college students the secrets of public speaking.
"But," she admits, "I still can't sing that verse without choking up."
Sometimes, still, the fear does creep in. When that happens the hymn's last phrases kick in and Maggie keeps moving— beyond the panic to the peace:
Oh, make me thine forever! And should I fainting be, Lord, let me never, never, Outlive my love for thee.
Lord, your Word assures us that your Spirit will help us in our weakness. When I do not know how to pray, intercede for me with that language that is beyond human utterance. Accept the groanings of my heart-—-its depravity and its gratitude for your grace.
From the book "Spiritual Moments with the Great Hymns" by Evelyn Bence.
...............................
- O sacred Head, now wounded, with grief and shame weighed down,
Now scornfully surrounded with thorns, Thine only crown;
O sacred Head, what glory, what bliss till now was Thine!
Yet, though despised and gory, I joy to call Thee mine. - What Thou, my Lord, hast suffered, was all for sinners’ gain;
Mine, mine was the transgression, but Thine the deadly pain.
Lo, here I fall, my Savior! ’Tis I deserve Thy place;
Look on me with Thy favor, vouchsafe to me Thy grace. - What language shall I borrow to thank Thee, dearest friend,
For this Thy dying sorrow, Thy pity without end?
O make me Thine forever, and should I fainting be,
Lord, let me never, never outlive my love to Thee. - Be Thou my consolation, my shield when I must die;
Remind me of Thy passion when my last hour draws nigh.
Mine eyes shall then behold Thee, upon Thy cross shall dwell,
My heart by faith enfolds Thee. Who dieth thus dies well.
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