Love Is Our Refuge

Last weekend I attended a hymn festival in Boston presented by the Hymn Society in the United States and Canada, an organization that you should all join which is dedicated to "promoting, enlivening, and encouraging congregational song."  The Society is now holding these events in various parts of the country in addition to their annual conference, and if there's one nearby you should definitely take the opportunity to go.  More will be announced for 2016, I'm sure.

The theme of this particular festival was the celebration of hymn writers and composers from the Boston area, both historical and contemporary.  Many of the hymns were familiar, and we had a chance to learn more about the backgrounds of each one.  The hymn below was not one I had seen before, by Mary Baker Eddy, founder of the Christian Science church. In that denomination it is known as the "Mother's Evening Prayer." It has mostly only been published in Christian Science hymnals, but I see nothing in it that would prevent it from being sung elsewhere, even though it avoids the "Lord and King" language for Jesus in favor of other more peaceful names.  The closing line is derived from Matthew 28, Jesus' commissioning of the disciples following the resurrection.

O Gentle Presence, peace and joy and pow'r,

O Life divine, that owns each waiting hour,

Thou Love that guards the nestling's falt'ring flight,

Keep thou thy child on upward wing tonight.

Love is our refuge, only with thine eye

Can I behold the snare, the pit, the fall;

Thy habitation high is here, and nigh,

Thine arm encircles me, and mine, and all.

Beneath the shadow of thy mighty wing,

In that sweet secret of the narrow way,

Seeking and finding, with the angels sing:

"Lo, I am with you always, watch and pray."

Mary Baker Eddy, 1896; alt.

Tune: MORECAMBE (10.10.10.10)

Frederick C. Atkinson, 1870

In light of this week's events, a hymn about peace and love that encircles us all seems very appropriate (please remember that there were also bombings in Beirut the day before the Paris attacks, as indeed there are every week in other parts of the world).

The Patience of Unanswered Prayer

The Sundays after Pentecost do go on for quite a while. Today is only the sixteenth. Here's another hymn on the Holy Spirit that is sung by several denominations.

It seems like I've always known this one and I assumed that "everyone" knew it too. So it was a surprise to find that it has never been in any of the primary Episcopal hymnals (1871, 1892, 1916, 1940, 1982) since it was written. Finally it was included in the supplement Wonder, Love and Praise (2001), and we sang it this summer. Naturally, it was unfamiliar to some people. Any hymn can be a favorite of many and completely unknown to many others.

I am not enough of a theologian to be able to determine why this one has not been accepted by the various Episcopalian hymnal committees over the years, but I'm glad it's finally being used.

Spirit of God, descend upon my heart;
Wean it from earth; through all its pulses move;
Stoop to my weakness, mighty as thou art;
And make me love thee as I ought to love.

I ask no dream, no prophet ecstasies,
No sudden rending of the veil of clay,
No angel visitant, no opening skies;
But take the dimness of my soul away.

Teach me to feel that thou art always nigh;
Teach me the struggles of the soul to bear.
To check the rising doubt, the rebel sigh,
Teach me the patience of unanswered prayer.

Teach me to love thee as thine angels love,
One holy passion filling all my frame;
The baptism of the heaven-descended Dove,
My heart an altar, and thy love the flame.

George Croly, 1854; alt.
Tune: MORECAMBE (10.10.10.10.)
Frederick Atkinson, 1870

You may remember that composer Atkinson had hoped that this tune would be sung with Abide with me, but that idea never took hold. I don't know what he had against EVENTIDE.

"Teach me the patience of unanswered prayer" has to be one of the most useful lines ever included in any hymn.

Henry Francis Lyte

Abide with me; fast falls the eventide;
The darkness deepens; God, with me abide.
When other helpers fail and comforts flee,
Help of the helpless, O abide with me.

Swift to its close ebbs out life’s little day;
Earth’s joys grow dim; its glories pass away;
Change and decay in all around I see;
O thou who changest not, abide with me.

Come not in terrors, as the King of kings,
But kind and good, with healing in thy wings,
Tears for all woes, a heart for every plea—
Come, Friend of pilgrims, thus abide with me.

I need thy presence every passing hour.
What but thy grace can foil the tempter’s power?
Who, like thyself, my guide and stay can be?
Through cloud and sunshine, O abide with me.

I fear no foe, with thee at hand to bless;
Ills have no weight, and tears no bitterness.
Where is death’s sting? Where, grave, thy victory?
I triumph still, if thou abide with me.

Henry Francis Lyte, 1847, alt.
Tune: EVENTIDE (10.10.10.10)
William Henry Monk, 1861

Henry Francis Lyte was the author of dozens of hymns that appeared in the hymnals of the nineteenth century, but his two most enduring are this one and Praise, my soul, the King of heaven. Since Abide with me was previously voted a favorite among readers of this blog (a small group, admittedly) it had to be featured today for Lyte's birthday (215 years ago). This hymn has probably also been near the top on just about any poll on hymns taken in more than a hundred years. I do admit to shuffling the original eight verses a bit in order to choose a final five, using one that has rarely been sung since the nineteenth century.

Lyte wrote his own tune for the hymn which was probably sung at All Saints, the church in Brixham where he was pastor for more than twenty years. But in 1861 the hymn was published in Hymns Ancient and Modern (the influential English hymnal that sold more than 60 million copies) with a new tune by the prolific composer W.H. Monk (one of the editors of the collection), the tune by which everyone knows it today. Others have tried to write new tunes for it, including Frederick Atkinson's MORECAMBE, but none have stuck, as this page from the Oremus Hymnal shows, listing the tunes matched with this text in hymnals spanning nearly 150 years. As mentioned before, tunes are often just as important as texts in establishing a hymn's popularity (for better or worse, some would say).

I know that many people associate this hymn mostly with funerals, but I never have. We used to sing it at the close of evening worship, and (very) occasionally it's used at Evensong in my present church. Heck, we even used to sing it in the subway or at airports. The four-part harmony is irresistible

Here's another verse by Lyte that I particularly like, the final verse of Jesus, I my cross have taken (1824). Sometimes you just find one verse especially meaningful, without liking the whole hymn. Like Abide with me, and like many hymns of the Victorian era, the last verse of the hymn ends up in heaven (that theme again). We used to sing about heaven a lot, so maybe that's why this jumped out to me when I first read it some months ago

Haste then, on from grace to glory,
Armed by faith and winged by prayer;
Heav'ns eternal day before thee,
God's own hand shall guide thee there.
Soon shall close the earthly mission,
Swift shall pass thy pilgrim days,
Hope soon change to glad fruition,
Faith to sight, and prayer to praise.

Now there's a verse that deserves to close with an "Amen."

The Feast of Corpus Christi

Today is sixty days after Easter, the feast day of Corpus Christi, in honor of the Eucharist. It was formally established by Pope Urban in 1264, after being first urged by the Augustinian nun Juliana of Liège. Though primarily celebrated in the Roman Catholic church, there are observances in Anglican and Episcopal churches; some today and some on Sunday. Many will probably further celebrate the Benediction of the Blessed Sacrament.

I have many favored hymns for the Eucharist, or (Holy) Communion, as many know it. There's a wide range of them from the extremely vivid verses about the body and blood of Jesus Christ to the commemorative ones about shared experience and fellowship. I think there's a place for all of them, though I know many people would require a stricter doctrine in one way or another.

Here, O my God, I see thee face to face;
Here would I touch and handle things unseen;
Here grasp with firmer hand eternal grace,
And all my weariness upon thee lean.

Here would I feed upon the Bread of God,
Here drink with thee the royal Wine of heaven;
Here would I lay aside each earthly load,
Here taste afresh the calm of sin forgiven.

This is the hour of banquet and of song;
This is the heavenly table spread for me;
Here let me feast, and feasting, still prolong
The brief, bright hour of fellowship with thee.

Too soon we rise, we go our several ways;
The feast, though not the love, is past and gone,
The bread and cup consumed, yet all our days
Thou art still here with us -- our Shield and Sun.

Feast after feast thus comes and passes by;
Yet, passing, points to the glad feast above,
Giving us foretaste of the festal joy,
The Lamb's eternal feast of bliss and love.

Horatius Bonar, 1855; alt.
Tune: MORECAMBE (10.10.10.10.)
Frederick C. Atkinson, 1870

There are three more verses but they drift away from the Communion theme a bit. In the Hymnal 1940 the Episcopalians actually split the verses up and made two different hymns out of it, giving each one an odd "modern" tune. They tried again with some different/additional (but similarly odd) tunes for the two separate hymns in the Hymnal 1982.

Free advice: Give it up. Frederick Atkinson's tune will never die no matter how unsophisticated you think it to be. While you're at it, put the text back together like it is here. Everyone in the pews will be content, if not the organists and theologians who need to tinker.