“Guide Me, O Thou Great Jehovah” was written by the Isaac Watts of Wales, William Williams (1717-1791). He studied medicine, took up theology instead, became an Anglican Deacon and eventually a Calvinistic Methodist. He wrote in Welsh, so the Welsh translator Peter Williams (no relation) brought it into English. (Today, Williams is the third most common surname in Wales.)

The recording above is a modern arrangement, written by Jeremy Casella (guitar/vocals) and performed with Sandra McCracken (vocals), Paul Nelson (cello), Tim Nicholson (piano). This arrangement has held me over the years, driving home my need to release my fears to the Almighty.

1. Guide me, O thou great Jehovah,
pilgrim through this barren land;
I am weak, but thou art mighty;
hold me with thy pow’rful hand;
Bread of heaven,
Bread of heaven,
feed me ’til I want no more,
feed me ’til I want no more.

2. Open now the crystal fountain,
whence the healing stream doth flow;
let the fire and cloudy pillar
lead me all my journey through;
strong Deliv’rer,
strong Deliv’rer,
be thou still my strength and shield,
be thou still my strength and shield.

3. 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 give to thee,
I will ever give to thee.

Oh, to finally say goodbye
Bid my anxious fears, bid my anxious fears
Land me safe on Canaan’s side
Bid my anxious fears, bid my anxious fears, goodbye

This marvelous testimony to God’s sovereignty and creation of all things comes to us from Presbyterian Maltbie D. Babcock of New York (1858-1901). It was published after his death in 1901 to a traditional English folk tune arranged by Franklin L. Sheppard.

1 This is my Father’s world,
And to my listening ears
All nature sings, and round me rings
The music of the spheres.
This is my Father’s world:
I rest me in the thought
Of rocks and trees, of skies and seas–
His hand the wonders wrought.

2 This is my Father’s world:
The birds their carols raise,
The morning light, the lily white,
Declare their Maker’s praise.
This is my Father’s world:
He shines in all that’s fair;
In the rustling grass I hear Him pass,
He speaks to me everywhere.

3 This is my Father’s world:
O let me ne’er forget
That though the wrong seems oft so strong,
God is the Ruler yet.
This is my Father’s world:
Why should my heart be sad?
The Lord is King: let the heavens ring!
God reigns; let earth be glad!

This marvelous hymn from the Scottish minister Horatius Bonar (1808-1889) has a beautiful grandeur in this recording, but I’ve sung the song at a ripping pace, time and a half this pace, almost like a sea shanty. It’s stirring. I don’t know if the Free Church of Scotland would have approved of it, but I think it still keeps the spirit of worship.

1 I heard the voice of Jesus say,
“Come unto me and rest;
lay down, O weary one, lay down
your head upon my breast.”
I came to Jesus as I was,
weary and worn and sad;
I found in him a resting place,
and he has made me glad.

2 I heard the voice of Jesus say,
“Behold, I freely give
the living water; thirsty one,
stoop down and drink, and live.”
I came to Jesus, and I drank
of that life-giving stream;
my thirst was quenched, my soul revived,
and now I live in him.

3 I heard the voice of Jesus say,
“I am this dark world’s Light;
look unto me, your morn shall rise,
and all your days be bright.”
I looked to Jesus and I found
in him my Star, my Sun;
and in that light of life I’ll walk,
’til trav’ling days are done.

“I looked, and there was a white horse! Its rider had a bow; a crown was given to him, and he came out conquering and to conquer” (Revelation 6:2 KJV).

Franny Crosby is that familiar, Methodist Episcopal hymn writer whose hymns are lodged in my head so neatly I can’t remember which ones are hers or when I last sung one. I don’t think this hymn has come up in our church in a long time, but it could be that I just can’t remember it.

I think the theme of this hymn is out of fashion today, and believers need it as much as they ever did. The battle is not to the strong; the race will not be won by the swift. Victory will be given by the Master to his own on his own terms.

1.Conquering now and still to conquer, rideth a King in His might;
Leading the host of all the faithful into the midst of the fight;
See them with courage advancing, clad in their brilliant array,
Shouting the Name of their Leader, hear them exultingly say:

Refrain:
Not to the strong is the battle, not to the swift is the race,
Yet to the true and the faithful vict’ry is promised thro’ grace.

2. Conquering now and still to conquer, who is this wonderful King?
Whence are the armies which He leadeth, while of His glory they sing?
He is our Lord and Redeemer, Savior and Monarch divine;
They are the stars that forever bright in His kingdom shall shine.

3. Conquering now and still to conquer, Jesus, Thou Ruler of all,
Thrones and their scepters all shall perish, crowns and their splendor shall fall,
Yet shall the armies Thou leadest, faithful and true to the last,
Find in Thy mansions eternal rest, when their warfare is past.

This hymn comes to us from the Englishman Samuel Medley (1738-99), set to a tune by Englishman John Hatton (1710-93).

1 I know that my Redeemer lives!
What comfort this sweet sentence gives!
He lives, he lives, who once was dead;
he lives, my everliving head!

2 He lives triumphant from the grave;
he lives eternally to save;
he lives all-glorious in the sky;
he lives exalted there on high.

3 He lives to grant me rich supply;
he lives to guide me with his eye;
he lives to comfort me when faint;
he lives to hear my soul’s complaint.

Today hymn is believed to have been originally written by Ignaz Franz (1719-1790), chaplain at Gross-Glogau and vicar of Glogau in Silesia, Poland, during the 1740s. Clarence A. Walworth (1820-1900) translated it from German.

1 Holy God, we praise thy name.
God of all, we bow before thee.
All on earth your scepter claim;
all in heav’n above adore thee.
Infinite thy vast domain,
everlasting is thy reign.

2 Hark, the loud celestial hymn,
angel choirs above are raising.
Cherubim and seraphim,
in unceasing chorus praising,
fill the heav’ns with sweet accord:
Holy, holy, holy Lord.

3 Lo! the apostolic train
join thy sacred name to hallow.
Prophets swell the glad refrain,
and the blessed martyrs follow,
and, from morn till set of sun,
through the church the song goes on.

4 Holy Author, Holy Word,
Holy Spirit, three we name thee;
still, one holy voice is heard:
undivided God, we claim thee,
and adoring bend the knee,
while we own the mystery.

Today’s hymn published in 1880 by the composer himself, Will L. Thompson (1847-1909) of Ohio. A member of the Church of Christ, Thompson started his own business to sell his music and later pianos, instruments, and other sheet music.

This performance by the Altar of Praise Chorale skips the third verse, which may be darker than some ministers want.

Time is now fleeting, the moments are passing,
passing from you and from me;
shadows are gathering, deathbeds are coming,
coming for you and for me. 

Come home, come home;
you who are weary come home;
earnestly, tenderly, Jesus is calling,
calling, O sinner, come home!

This long-favored hymn was written by Methodist Episcopal Fanny Crosby in 1868 to a tune by industrialist William H. Doane, who “wrote over twenty-two hundred hymn and gospel song tunes, and he edited over forty songbooks.”

Savior, Savior,
Hear my humble cry,
While on others Thou art calling,
Do not pass me by.