Category Archives: Music

Sunday Singing: Deck thyself, my soul, with gladness

Today’s hymn comes from a lawyer and poet from Brandenburg-Prussia, Johann Franck (1618-1677). A biographer praises his hymns as “distinguished for unfeigned and firm faith,” avoiding the objectivity and congregational character of the older German hymns” for “a more personal, individual tone.” Originally “Schmücke dich, o liebe Seele,” our hymn “Deck thyself, my soul, with gladness” was published in Johann Crüger’s Geistliche Kirchen-Melodien (1649) to the tune heard above.

“How precious is your steadfast love, O God!
The children of mankind take refuge in the shadow of your wings.
They feast on the abundance of your house,
and you give them drink from the river of your delights.
For with you is the fountain of life;
in your light do we see light.” (Psalm 36:7-9 ESV)

1 Deck thyself, my soul, with gladness,
leave the gloomy haunts of sadness;
come into the daylight’s splendour,
there with joy thy praises render
unto him whose grace unbounded
hath this wondrous banquet founded:
high o’er all the heavens he reigneth,
yet to dwell with thee he deigneth.

2 Now I sink before thee lowly,
filled with joy most deep and holy,
as with trembling awe and wonder
on thy mighty works I ponder:
how, by mystery surrounded,
depth no mortal ever sounded,
none may dare to pierce unbidden
secrets that with thee are hidden.

3 Sun, who all my life dost brighten,
light, who dost my soul enlighten,
joy, the sweetest heart e’er knoweth,
fount, whence all my being floweth,
at thy feet I cry, my Maker,
let me be a fit partaker
of this blessed food from heaven,
for our good, thy glory, given.

4 Jesus, Bread of Life, I pray thee,
let me gladly here obey thee;
never to my hurt invited,
be thy love with love requited:
from this banquet let me measure,
Lord, how vast and deep its treasure;
through the gifts thou here dost give me,
as thy guest in heaven receive me.

Climbing mountains and a broken Hallelujah

Speaking as an old man who has climbed a number of metaphorical mountains of the literary sort (and zero ones of the real sort), I know how to begin a massive writing – or translation – project. At least I know what works for me. The trick, in my experience, is not to look at the mountain.

If you think about the size of the mountain as you begin, you’ll soon grow disheartened.

You have to concentrate on today’s work. What will I do today? How much can I accomplish just today?

If you write merely one page every day, you can produce a 365 page book in a year. (It takes me considerably longer, though, when you include revisions. But you get the point. One step at a time.)

“Sufficient unto the day is the evil thereof,” as the Lord says in the Sermon on the Mount. (Matthew 6:34)

Anyway, I’ve ordered some orthopedic aids to help me sit for long periods at my laptop, and I’m on the case.

The video above troubles me.

Not because of the artist herself – Lucy Thomas, who apparently won some talent program and obviously has an astonishing voice. I like her singing very much.

And not the song in itself, in particular. Leonard Cohen was in some ways the archetypal Israelite, forever wrestling with God. And this song expresses his troubled world-view in transcendent fashion.

My problem is that somebody – as you can see from the captions – is promoting it as a worship song.

Dearly beloved, “Hallelujah” is not a worship song! (I’ve written some drivel about it before in this blog myself.) It’s a song about sex, couched in near-blasphemous biblical imagery. It’s a brilliant piece of work but it doesn’t belong in your church.

It’s disrespectful both to God (who is not being properly revered) and to the artist – whose work is being twisted in a direction he never intended.

I understand the Christian impulse to turn all things to God’s glory.

But art deserves respect for its own sake. Not to be hijacked, even by well-meaning worship leaders.

At least give it time for the copyright to run out.

Sunday Singing: All Glory, Laud, and Honor

I took a break from our Sunday Singing posts, partly because I went on vacation and decided not to work out Sunday posts for a few weeks, then because my work week or weekend was busy. I start back today and hope these posts will lift our heads to the Lord.

Today’s hymn, “All Glory, Laud, and Honor,” comes from the influential Bishop of Orléans Theodulf (760-821). He was an Italian in France serving under Charlemagne and afterward King Louis the Pious. He was a patron of the arts and had a chapel built in Germigny-des-Prés, now a testament to Carolingian architecture.

“He will be great and will be called the Son of the Most High. And the Lord God will give to him the throne of his father David, and he will reign over the house of Jacob forever, and of his kingdom there will be no end.” (Luke 1:32–33 ESV)

1 All glory, laud, and honor
To Thee, Redeemer, King,
To whom the lips of children
Made sweet hosannas ring.
Thou art the King of Israel,
Thou David’s royal Son,
Who in the Lord’s name comest,
The King and Blessed One.

2 All glory, laud, and honor
To Thee, Redeemer, King,
To whom the lips of children
Made sweet hosannas ring.
The company of angels
Is praising Thee on high,
And mortal men and all things
Created make reply.

3 All glory, laud, and honor
To Thee, Redeemer, King,
To whom the lips of children
Made sweet hosannas ring.
The people of the Hebrews
With psalms before Thee went;
Our praise and prayer and anthems
Before Thee we present.

4 All glory, laud, and honor
To Thee, Redeemer, King,
To whom the lips of children
Made sweet hosannas ring.
To Thee, before Thy Passion,
They sang their hymns of praise;
To Thee, now high exalted,
Our melody we raise.

5 All glory, laud, and honor
To Thee, Redeemer, King,
To whom the lips of children
Made sweet hosannas ring.
Thou didst accept their praises;
Accept the prayers we bring,
Who in all good delightest,
Thou good and gracious King.

This is my Father’s world, no matter what Weldon thought

I thought, since it’s Friday, I’d post some music consistent with my overheated musings in yesterday’s post. So here’s a lovely arrangement of “This Is My Father’s World,” one of my old favorite hymns. It was originally published in 1901, with lyrics by Rev. Maltbie D. Babcock (1858-1901), a sadly short-lived Presbyterian pastor who published several popular hymns. The tune is Terra Beata, based on an English folk song. (And I’m pretty sure they cribbed the first line for the Shire theme in the Lord of the Rings movies.)

Here’s an interesting item from the latest issue of the Bulletin of the New York C. S. Lewis Society. It’s all the better for being written by our good friend Dale Nelson:

Pages 22 and 23 feature Dale’s article on Thomas Dewar Weldon (1896-1958), with whom Lewis had a variable relationship. They came to Oxford at the same time, and were good friends for a while. But even before he stopped being an atheist, Lewis grew weary of Weldon’s relentless, materialist cynicism. As a tutor in Moral Philosophy his teaching method (according to R. W. Johnson’s book, Look Back in Laughter: Oxford’s Postwar Golden Age) was to first demolish his students’ conventional beliefs, and then to demolish whatever new beliefs they constructed, until they were left “in a state of free-floating agnostic cleverness.”

 Weldon declared, in a 1944 lecture at Bomber Command Headquarters, near Oxford, that the carpet bombing of German cities was justified because it would shorten the war and save lives. Lewis was already on the record, along with a number of Anglican clergy, as rejecting that argument categorically.

Weldon was (according to George Sayer) that “hardest-boiled atheist” who remarked to Lewis in his rooms one day that the evidence for the Resurrection of Christ was remarkably good, saying, “Rum thing,” as Lewis recalled in Surprised By Joy.

Weldon was also the model for the Dick Devine, the cynical, flippant character who’s so annoying in Out of the Silent Planet and (promoted to the title, Lord Feverstone) in That Hideous Strength.

Birthday post: Going sane

I’ve loved the song above for a long time. And to my mind, it harmonizes with my theme tonight.

This will be my birthday post (my age is for me to know and you not to care about). In honor of this auspicious occasion, I’m going to break my custom of putting commemorative posts up on the day of the event (so it’s too late) and post it the day before (so you’ll have time to get me a present).

Also because I have something to say that may be significant, and I want to share it. It’s been about three weeks now, and that fact suggests to me that the effects I’m seeing may be permanent.

I believe I’m going sane.

Nobody could be more surprised than I am. Let me tell you about it.

First of all, I think I won’t be surprising anyone when I say that I’ve always been a little… weird. Socially. Depressive. Awkwardly shy. Unable to make eye contact. Easily offended. Not one to pick fights, but one to distance myself, taking refuge in solitude. My great plague has been intrusive thoughts – shameful memories that came into my mind and would not be ignored. I knew of no way to handle them except to face them, experience the full shame, and then try to find something to distract me from them.

This was tremendously tiring for me. In social situations, half my energy got wasted in dealing with those intrusive thoughts. This was how I lived.

Then something happened to me, about three weeks ago.

Sunday Singing: How Great Thou Art

One of the greatest hymns of the 20th century was written by poet and member of the Swedish parliament Carl Gustav Boberg (1859 – 1940). A member of the Mission Covenant Church of Sweden, he wrote “O store Gud” in 1885 in response to church bells and the beauty of a summer evening. Englishman Stuart K. Hine translated and arranged the text to a Swedish folk melody in 1949. The great George Beverly Shea sings with a choir in the recording above.

“I will give thanks to the LORD with my whole heart;
I will recount all of your wonderful deeds.
I will be glad and exult in you;
I will sing praise to your name, O Most High.” (Psalm 9:1–2 ESV)

Sunday Singing: How Firm a Foundation

“A wind has wrapped them in its wings,
and they shall be ashamed because of their sacrifices”
(Hosea 4:19 ESV).

We don’t recognize how we undermine our foundations with today’s sacrifices. We assume our wealth, privilege, and security will continue. We redefine the terms of the sacrifice God asks for us and pronounce it good. We chip away at our foundations, thinking they will never crumble.

But if Christ is our foundation, we will continue to stand. We will not sow to the wind as Ephraim did in Hosea 4. We will sow to fields that will turn a harvest as the Lord wills it.

The author of today’s hymn, “How Firm a Foundation,” was not identified in the 1787 publication in which the song first appears. It is believed to be Robert Keen of Carter Lane Baptist Church in London. The tune sung in the video above is an American one, published in 1832.

1 How firm a foundation, you saints of the Lord,
is laid for your faith in his excellent Word!
What more can he say than to you he has said,
to you who for refuge to Jesus have fled?

2 “Fear not, I am with you, O be not dismayed;
for I am your God, and will still give you aid;
I’ll strengthen you, help you, and cause you to stand,
upheld by my righteous, omnipotent hand.

3 “When through the deep waters I call you to go,
the rivers of sorrow shall not overflow;
for I will be with you, your troubles to bless,
and sanctify to you your deepest distress.

4 “When through fiery trials your pathway shall lie,
my grace, all-sufficient, shall be your supply;
the flame shall not hurt you; I only design
your dross to consume and your gold to refine.

5 “E’en down to old age all my people shall prove
my sovereign, eternal, unchangeable love;
and when hoary hairs shall their temples adorn,
like lambs they shall still in my bosom be borne.

6 “The soul that on Jesus has leaned for repose,
I will not, I will not desert to his foes;
that soul, though all hell should endeavor to shake,
I’ll never, no never, no never forsake.”

Sunday Singing: Jesus, I Come

Today’s hymn of faith is another one I hadn’t heard before Indelible Grace wrote new music to it. William T. Sleeper (1819-1904) was a native of New Hampshire and Congregationalist minister in Wor­ces­ter, Mass­a­chu­setts, wrote the words in 1887. It’s a moving confession of coming to Christ with nothing. No bargaining, no promises, no attempts to merit the grace he offers.

“Blessed be the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ! According to his great mercy, he has caused us to be born again to a living hope through the resurrection of Jesus Christ from the dead” (1 Peter 1:3 ESV).

1 Out of my bondage, sorrow and night,
Jesus, I come, Jesus, I come;
Into thy freedom, gladness, and light,
Jesus, I come to thee.
Out of my sickness into thy health,
Out of my want and into thy wealth,
Out of my sin and into thyself,
Jesus, I come to thee.

2 Out of my shameful failure and loss,
Jesus, I come, Jesus, I come;
Into the glorious gain of thy cross,
Jesus, I come to thee.
Out of earth’s sorrows into thy balm,
Out of life’s storms and into thy calm,
Out of distress to jubilant psalm,
Jesus, I come to thee.

3 Out of unrest and arrogant pride,
Jesus, I come, Jesus, I come;
Into thy blessed will to abide,
Jesus, I come to thee.
Out of my self to dwell in thy love,
Out of despair into raptures above,
Upward for aye on wings like a dove,
Jesus, I come to thee.

4 Out of the fear and dread of the tomb,
Jesus, I come, Jesus, I come;
Into the joy and light of thy home,
Jesus, I come to thee.
Out of the depths of ruin untold,
Into the peace of thy sheltering fold,
Ever thy glorious face to behold,
Jesus, I come to thee.

Sunday Singing: I’m Not Ashamed to Own My Lord

“I’m Not Ashamed to Own My Lord” performed by Nathan C. George and family

Today’s hymn of faith is from the profound and marvelous writer Isaac Watts. The tune is called Pisgah and was written by J.C. Lowry according to the Kentucky Harmony tunebook (1811). The wonderful performance above captures the feel of the tune.

“For I am not ashamed of the gospel, for it is ethe power of God for salvation to everyone who believes, to the Jew first and also to the Greek” (Romans 1:16 ESV).

1 I’m not ashamed to own my Lord,
or to defend his cause,
maintain the honor of his Word,
the glory of his cross.

2 Jesus, my God! I know his name,
his name is all my trust;
nor will he put my soul to shame,
nor let my hope be lost.

3 Firm as his throne his promise stands,
and he can well secure
what I’ve committed to his hands
’til the decisive hour.

4 Then will he own my worthless name
before his Father’s face,
and in the new Jerusalem
appoint my soul a place.

Sunday Singing: Jesus! What a Friend for Sinners

I was surprised to learn today’s hymn of the faith is not more popular than it is, because it’s one of my favorites. “Jesus! what a Friend for sinners!” (also called “Our Great Savior”) has been published in only 77 hymnals. It was written by Presbyterian minister John Wilbur Chapman (1859-1918), who was advocated large evangelistic events around the turn of the 20th century. The tune is a wonderful Welsh piece by Rowland H. Prichard (1811-1887).

“The Son of Man has come eating and drinking, and you say, ‘Look at him! A glutton and a drunkard, a friend of tax collectors and sinners!’ Yet wisdom is justified by all her children” (Luke 7:34–35 ESV).

1 Jesus! what a Friend for sinners!
Jesus! lover of my soul;
friends may fail me, foes assail me,
he, my Savior, makes me whole.

Refrain:
Hallelujah! what a Savior!
Hallelujah, what a Friend!
Saving, helping, keeping, loving,
he is with me to the end.

2 Jesus! what a strength in weakness!
Let me hide myself in him;
tempted, tried, and sometimes failing,
he, my strength, my vict’ry wins. [Refrain]

3 Jesus! what a help in sorrow!
While the billows o’er me roll,
even when my heart is breaking,
he, my comfort, helps my soul. [Refrain]

4 Jesus! what a guide and keeper!
While the tempest still is high,
storms about me, night o’ertakes me,
he, my pilot, hears my cry. [Refrain]

5 Jesus! I do now receive him,
more than all in him I find;
he hath granted me forgiveness,
I am his, and he is mine. [Refrain]