"I serve a risen Savior!"

 

Hymn: “He Lives” – Words and Music by Alfred Ackley (1887-1960)
Tune: ACKLEY

This hymnline speaks for itself. I have nothing to add.


Alan Jackson sings “He Lives”

"Days of darkness still come o'er me, sorrows path I often tread."

Hymn: “I Will Sing the Wondrous Story” – Francis H. Rowley (1854-1952)
Common Tunes: WONDROUS STORY, HYFRYDOL

Lenten days are by nature dark days. There is less joy wound into our worship; we are focused more on the suffering Christ than on the living/healing/teaching Lord. And we’re supposed to refrain from singing ‘hallelujah’ during the Sundays that link together these forty days. So this hymnline seems appropriate, don’t you think?

Growing up, singing this text at a breakneck speed to the WONDROUS STORY tune, the words didn’t seem to match the rollicking, dotted-rhythm melody. All the talk of lostness, being bruised and faint, blindness and possession by fear: those seemed to be ‘downers’ to me!

In spite of my faith walk, days of darkness still come o’er me and sorrow’s path I often tread. Following after Christ does not grant immunity from the common struggles of life… despite what you may have heard from a television preacher recently. In fact, sometimes the darknesses seem even darker, and the sorrows feel deeper. But like this hymnline, we face those with a profound sense of hope that joy will come in the morning! The line continues with “but the Savior still is with me, by his hand I’m safely led.”

In our days of darkness and sorrow, we are not alone! No, never alone.

Let’s not let these cross-anticipating days to drag us down. Let’s focus on the sacrifice made at Calvary, but let us not lose sight of the hope that lies just three days beyond Lent. And may our dark days – whether in Lent or any other season – be survivable because we are not alone: the Savior still is with us, by his hand we’re safely led.

Hear Sandi Patty sing this text to a fresh tune

“My guilty conscience seeks no sacrifice beside (his powerful blood).”

Hymn: “Join All the Glorious Names” – Isaac Watts (1674-1748)
Typical Tune: DARWALL

In my education process, we learned that Isaac Watts is the “Father of English Hymnody.” While this hymn is not nearly as popular as his “When I Survey the Wondrous Cross,” there are some similarities, especially with THIS line. Here is the full stanza:

Jesus, my great High Priest, offered his blood and died;
My guilty conscience seeks no sacrifice beside.
His powerful blood did once atone,
And now it pleads before the throne.

Many of us have a tendency to carry our guilty conscience with us everywhere we go. We seem to drag it behind us as if we need something else to free us from the weight of our past. It’s almost as if we are not sure that the cross-sacrifice is adequate “for such a worm as I.” We know better; we verbalize the fact that “nothing but the blood of Jesus” can for sin atone. But we can’t seem to erase the guilt from our consciousness… to release it.

I’m sure you’re about as tired of the FROZEN song “Let It Go” as I am. It is a great song… at least it was the first forty-three times I heard children singing it on YouTube! However, it might do us well to make it our theme song when it comes to dealing with our past indiscretions… our sins. Couldn’t we just stand and sing those first two phrases after we speak our confessions in public worship? Makes sense to me. I’m sure the lawyers at Disney would be all over THAT!

The forgiveness process needs no further sacrifice than the one already made. So let’s stop going through life looking for a supplement. To quote another of my favorite hymns, “It is enough that Jesus died, and that he died for me.”  Enough is enough. Period.

An Organ Postlude on This Tune

"O cross that liftest up my head, I dare not ask to hide from thee."

Hymn: “O Love That Will Not Let Me Go” – George Matheson (1842-1906)
Typical Tune: ST. MARGARET

I have a running joke with Cynthia Clawson and Ragan Courtney about this hymn because, while singing for our wedding, she forgot the words. It’s a long story… but she cannot deny it: I have it on video!

This is great poem… hymn. I will return to it again in these posts, but this last stanza speaks to us particularly during the Lenten season when possibly too often we go about with downcast eyes… too concerned with our return-to-ashes state. It may be time to “Lift thine eyes, O lift thine eyes” to see the ever-present symbol of the crucifixion just ahead.

It is almost an oxymoron that an event which calls us to turn our face away in horror or bow in grave reverence and appreciation might also be a time in which our heads are lifted to remind us of what happened there. It is as if a kind, gentle, nail-scarred hand touches the chin and raises the lowered visage to once again come face to face with the realities of suffering and shame.

This is not one of those easily-comprehended hymnlines. We could spend some time here pulling the possibilities from the few words given. For me, every time I sing or hear this stanza, I am reminded that I should not be ashamed to be connected to the One who died there. At the same time, it calls me not to shirk my commitment to the One whose love will not release me from its grasp.

With my face lifted by the realities of the cross, I wouldn’t dare request “a pass” on the suffering which might come my way; there is no way I would stand around the corner and peek at the anguish, distress or humiliation which might be my lot after having taken up the cross and following the Savior of humankind.

Need a face-lift? Allow the cross the privilege of giving you one!


Hear All Four Stanzas Sung in This Setting

"O Lamb of God, my sacrifice, I must remember thee."

 

Hymn: “According to Thy Gracious Word” – James Montgomery (1771-1854)
Common Tune: AVON

Being a person fascinated with words, my ears and mind were piqued recently when I was came across a new insight into an old word: anamnesis. This is a term theologians toss around that means the act of remembering, especially related to the Eucharist. This hymn as a matter of fact is a communion hymn whose final words in each stanza are “remember thee.”

Anamnesis is the opposite of amnesia – the state of not being able to remember anything. More than just remembering, amamnesis is best described as “not being able not to remember.” You have to chew on that for a minute because its emphasis is based in the double negative.

For those of us who are bound for the Kingdom through the life, death, burial, resurrection and reign of Christ, we suffer from anamnesia because no matter how hard we might try, we simply cannot forget the magnificent significance of all that. I’ve never tried to forget, of course – because I have no desire to erase that from my mind.

My adherence to the doctrine of the security of the believer is probably related to this. My inability to forget keeps me securely tethered to the hem of his sacred, seamless dress. “My anchor holds and grips the Solid Rock” partly because I can’t help remembering.

With James Montgomery, I agree: “I MUST remember thee.”

A contemporary Scottish setting of this text