Origins of Songs

He Keeps Me Singing

Luther B. Bridgers wrote this song in the early 1900's af­ter a tra­gic fire killed his wife and all three sons. He spoke of the grace of God that ministered to his soul in the quiet of the lonely nights. He thought his poem was slow and reflective, but later penned a melody that was uplifting and lilting.

 

God, How Can We Comprehend

Carolyn W. Gillette, 1999. Pastor Gillette's heart was moved by the plight of refugees she witnessed on television. It was to be sung to support the relief efforts for those Afghan refugees.

In 1985, she earned her Master of Divinity degree from Princeton Theological Seminary. She serves as co-pas­tor of the First Pres­by­ter­i­an Church, Pit­man, New Jer­sey. Her works in­clude a book on "New Hymns for the Church" and more than 70 hymns.

 

"Voice of Truth"

By Mark Hall and Steven Curtis Chapman. This was the first song ever written by Mark Hall. It's original name was "Fear". Mark is dislexic and didn't see how or why God would use him to write or sing music. When the events unfolded that eventually exposed Casting Crowns to the world, Steven Curtis Chapman helped him finish the song and changed the name to what it is now, "Voice of Truth".

If you have had the privilege of hearing this song sung in concert, you will or have felt the presence of the Holy Spirit as Mark sings this song by himself, with only keyboards.

© 2003 Club Zoo Music / SWEC Music (Admin. by Club Zoo Music) / BMI / Sparrow Song / Peach Hill Songs (admin by EMI Christian Music Publishing) / BMI. All rights reserved. Used by permission.

 

Fear Not, Little Flock

The hymn was written by King Gus­tav­us Adolph­us of Swe­den as an encouragement to both the spiritual flock and to his small army. Its words have dual meaning, claiming God's guidance in battle.

Gus­tav­us Adolp­hus’ troops sang this hymn on the morn­ing of the Bat­tle of Lütz­en (in the Thir­ty Years’ War), No­vem­ber 6, 1632. Later in that day, their King was killed in the battle.

 

The Day of Resurrection

John of Da­mas­cus (675-749) (Αναστασεως ημερα); trans­lat­ed from Greek to Eng­lish by John M. Neale, 1862.

Neale heard this song when visiting Greece and described how early Greek Christians sang this hymn:

As mid­night ap­proached, the arch­bi­shop, with his priests, ac­com­pa­nied by the king and queen, left the church and sta­tioned them­selves on the plat­form, which was raised con­sid­er­a­bly from the ground, so that they were dis­tinct­ly seen by the peo­ple. Ev­er­y­one now re­mained in breath­less ex­pec­ta­tion, hold­ing an un­light­ed ta­per in rea­di­ness when the glad mo­ment should ar­rive, while the priests still con­tin­ued mur­mur­ing their mel­an­cho­ly chant in a low half whis­per.

Sud­den­ly a single re­port of a can­non an­nounced that twelve o’clock had struck and that Eas­ter Day had be­gun; then the old arch­bi­shop, ele­vat­ing the cross, ex­claimed in a loud, ex­ult­ing tone, “Christ­os anes­te!” “Christ is ris­en!” and in­stant­ly ev­ery sin­gle in­di­vid­u­al of all that host took up the cry…At that same mo­ment the op­press­ive dark­ness was suc­ceed­ed by a blaze of light from thou­sands of tap­ers which…seemed to send streams of fire in all di­rect­ions.

 

Dear Lord and Father of Mankind
John Greenleaf Whit­ti­er published this poem in the At­lan­tic Month­ly, Ap­ril 1872.

It is a condensation of a long, nar­ra­tive poem, “The Brew­ing of So­ma.” It de­scribes Ve­dic priests go­ing in­to the for­est and drink­ing them­selves into a stu­por with a con­coct­ion called “soma.” They try to have a re­li­gious ex­per­i­ence and con­tact the spir­it world.

It is af­ter set­ting that scene that Whit­tier draws his les­son: “Dear Lord, and Fa­ther of man­kind, for­give our fool­ish ways…” This hymn is as rel­e­vant to­day as when it was writ­ten. In a mod­ern con­text, it speaks to the drug cul­ture and alcohol crazed society, and those look­ing for an “experience” to prove the re­al­i­ty of God.

 

Be Still, My Soul

Ka­tha­ri­na A. von Schle­gel wrote the words in 1752; in 1899 it was set to the haunting melody of the folk tune “Finlandia,” by Jean Si­bel­i­us.

This hymn was re­port­ed­ly the fav­or­ite of Er­ic Lid­dell, the ath­lete who be­came fa­mous in the 1924 Olym­pics for re­fus­ing to run on the Sab­bath (see the mo­vie Char­i­ots of Fire).

Lid­dell lat­er be­came a mis­sion­ary in Chi­na, and was im­pris­oned by the Japanese dur­ing World War II. He is said to have taught this hymn to his fellow prisoners in the pri­son camp (where he event­u­al­ly died).

[Personal: It is also one of my personal favorites as I struggle with a terminal illness.]

 

All Hail to Thee, Immanuel

In 1910, D. R. Van Sick­le, a non­-be­liev­er, wrote the song to prove that one doesn’t have to be a Christ­ian to write a Christ­ian song!

How­ev­er, God, with His great love and pa­tience, turned the ta­bles on him. Years lat­er, Van Sickle was sit­ting in a church serv­ice where a choir sang his hymn. He came under con­vict­ion at that time, and gave his heart to Christ!

Music was added by the famous Charles H. Gab­ri­el in 1910. The re­frain can be a chall­enge to sing due to its speed and length, but the hymn works well even with­out a chor­us. Listen to it here: http://www.cyberhymnal.org/htm/a/l/allhail2.htm

 

Jesus Paid It All

In 1865, Elvina M. Hall penned these words. John T. Grape's church was un­der­go­ing re­pairs, and the cab­i­net or­gan was placed in his care. Thus af­ford­ed a plea­sure not be­fore en­joyed, he de­light­ed my­self in play­ing over some of our Sun­day school hymns and composing some new tunes. This was called "All to Him" originally.

Ira Sankey shares this story about the song:

On New Year’s night, 1886, some mis­sion­ar­ies were hold­ing open-air serv­ic­es in or­der to att­ract pass­ers­-by to a near-by miss­ion, where meet­ings were to be held later. “All to Christ I Owe” was sung, and af­ter a gen­tle­man had giv­en a short ad­dress he hast­ened away to the miss­ion. He soon heard foot­steps close be­hind him and a young wo­man caught up with him and said:

“I heard you ad­dress­ing the open-air meet­ing just now; do you think, sir, that Je­sus could save a sin­ner like me?”

The gen­tle­man re­plied that there was no doubt about that, if she was anx­ious to be saved. She told him that she was a serv­ant girl, and had left her place that morn­ing after a dis­a­gree­ment with her mis­tress. As she had been wan­der­ing about the streets in the dark, won­der­ing where she was to spend the night, the sweet mel­o­dies of this hymn had at­tract­ed her, and she drew near and listened at­tent­ive­ly. As the dif­fer­ent vers­es were be­ing sung, she felt that the words sure­ly had some­thing to do with her. Through the whole serv­ice she seemed to hear what met her op­pressed soul’s need at that mo­ment. God’s Spir­it had showed her what a poor, sin­ful and wretch­ed crea­ture she was, and had led her to ask what she must do.

On hear­ing her ex­per­i­ence, the gen­tle­man took her back to the mis­sion and left her with the la­dies in charge. The young, way­ward woman was brought to Christ that night. A si­tu­a­tion was se­cured for her in a min­is­ter’s fam­i­ly. There she be­came ill and had to be tak­en to a hos­pi­tal. She ra­pid­ly failed and it became ev­i­dent that she would not be long on earth. One day the gen­tle­man whom she had met on New Year’s night was vis­it­ing her in the ward. Af­ter quot­ing a few suit­a­ble vers­es of Script­ure, he re­peat­ed her fa­vo­rite hymn, “All to Christ I owe” and she seemed over­whelmed with the thought of com­ing to glo­ry. Two hours af­ter­ward she passed away.

 

Lead On, O King Eternal

Er­nest W. Shurt­leff wrote this hymn for the grad­u­a­tion cer­e­mo­ny at An­do­ver The­o­log­ic­al Sem­in­ary, where he was a mem­ber of the class of 1888. He wanted it to be a challenge to his classmates to the work of the ministry.

Shurtleff grad­u­at­ed from An­dover The­ological Sem­i­nary and was or­dained a Con­gre­ga­tion­al min­is­ter. He served in Ven­tura, Cal­i­for­nia and Min­ne­ap­o­lis, Min­ne­so­ta. He spent the last part of his ministry in Eu­rope, found­ing the Amer­i­can Church in Frank­furt-Main, Ger­ma­ny, in 1895, and work­ing at the Acad­emy Vit­ti in Par­is, where he died during World War I.

 

Majesty

Jack Hayford grad­u­at­ed from L.I.F.E. Bi­ble Col­lege and Azu­sa Pa­ci­fic Un­i­ver­si­ty and began immediately as the na­tion­al youth di­rect­or of the In­ter­na­tion­al Church of the Four­square Gos­pel. In 1965, he joined the fa­cul­ty of L.I.F.E. Bi­ble Col­lege, and went on to be­come dean of stu­dents there, and its pre­si­dent in 1977.

In his "spare time", he founded in 1969 and pastored Church of the Way, event­u­al­ly growing to over 7,000 mem­bers. But above all, he sought to remind the youth and then his church members of the glory due to GOD ALONE, not to a man or to a church.

His song is one of the most enduring and beautiful of the modern Praise & Worship movement.

 

Master the Tempest is Raging

In 1874, author Mary A. Baker wrote: "Dr. Palmer [noted musician] requested me to prepare several songs on the subject of the current Sunday-school les­sons. One of the themes was “Christ Stilling the Tempest.”

It so ex­pressed an ex­per­i­ence I had recent­ly passed through, that this hymn was the re­sult. A very dear and only bro­ther, a young man of rare love­li­ness and prom­ise of char­ac­ter, had been laid in the grave, a vic­tim of the same di­sease that had al­ready tak­en fa­ther and mo­ther. His death oc­curred un­der pe­cul­iarly dis­tress­ing cir­cum­stances. He was more than a thou­sand miles away from home, seek­ing in the balmy air of the sun­ny South the heal­ing that our cold­er cli­mate could not give. Sud­den­ly he grew worse. The writ­er was ill and could not go to him. For two weeks the long lines of tel­e­graph wires car­ried back and forth mes­sages be­tween the dy­ing brother and his wait­ing sisters, ere the word came which told us that our be­loved brother was no longer a dwell­er on the earth.

Al­though we mourned not as those with­out hope, and al­though I had be­lieved on Christ in ear­ly child­hood and had al­ways de­sired to give the Master a con­se­crat­ed and obed­i­ent life, I became wick­ed­ly re­bell­i­ous at this dis­pen­sa­tion of di­vine prov­i­dence. I said in my heart that God did not care for me or mine. But the Master’s own voice stilled the tem­pest in my un­sanc­ti­fied heart, and brought it to the calm of a deep­er faith and a more per­fect trust."

[When American president James Gar­field was as­sas­sin­at­ed in 1881, the hymn was sung at sev­er­al of the fun­er­al serv­ic­es held in his hon­or throug­hout the count­ry.]

 

While the words were written by a virtually unknown Urania Locke Stoughton Bailey in 1871, a story of its effects is shared by D.L. Moody's songleader, Ira Sankey:

"While we were hold­ing meet­ings in Bos­ton [Mass­a­chu­setts], in 1876, Mr. Moo­dy was en­ter­tained by one of the lead­ing law­yers of the ci­ty, who fre­quent­ly be­fore the meet­ings would ask what so­lo I had se­lect­ed. If I had none, he would say: “Please sing, ‘The mis­takes of my life have been ma­ny’; for one of the great­est mis­takes I have ev­er made was to ig­nore God in all my af­fairs. But at last he took away my only child, a be­loved son. That led me to the feet of Je­sus, and I bowed to kiss the hand that had laid the rod up­on me.

Then I told the Lord that I would de­vote my for­tune to his ser­vice. In keep­ing with that prom­ise I erect­ed a col­lege for young wo­men, lo­cat­ed at Well­es­ley Lake, near Bos­ton.”

Sadly, Wellesly College has now long-turned from its humble origin of a penitent benefactor.

 

Charles C. Lu­ther heard his pastor tell the sto­ry of a young man who was about to die. He’d on­ly been a Christ­ian for a month, and was sad be­cause he’d had so lit­tle time to serve the Lord. He said, “I am not afraid to die; Je­sus saves me now. But must I go em­pty hand­ed?”

This in­ci­dent prompt­ed the writ­ing of the song; Steb­bins wrote the mu­sic when Lu­ther gave him the words.

 

Peace, Perfect Peace

Edward H. Bickersteth, Jr., was va­ca­tion­ing in Har­ro­gate, England, in 1875, where he heard a ser­mon on Isaiah 26:3. The min­is­ter re­lat­ed that the He­brew text used the word peace twice to in­di­cate ab­so­lute per­fect­ion. The idea was still on Bick­er­steth’s mind when he vis­it­ed a dy­ing rel­a­tive that af­ter­noon.

To soothe the man’s emo­tion­al tur­moil, Bick­er­steth opened his Bible to read from Isaiah 26:3. He wrote down these lyr­ics, just as they ap­pear today, and read them to the man: per­haps the last thing he heard before Jesus called him “to hea­ven’s per­fect peace.”

 

"RECEIVE, O LORD, OUR PRAYERS"

Ephraim of Edessa (303-373) (Qabbel, Mâran, bâ’ûth kullan) was a contemporary of St. Basil the Great and his brother St. Gregory. He was the hymnologist of the early church.

Ephraim was born early in the fourth century in the ancient city of Nisibis in Mesopotamia, where the Roman Empire bordered on the Persian Kingdom. To most of the world, this region was still known as "Syria" and for this reason St. Ephraim is known as "the Syrian."

He was born of Christian parents before the Edict of Milan was issued (313), establishing official toleration of religion, and, as he later wrote, his ancestors "confessed Christ before the judge; I am related to martyrs."

His prayers and hymns are still used in many churches, especially in the Lenten season, since they record his monastic life of self-sacrifice.

 

Rock of Ages

In 1776, Au­gus­tus M. Top­la­dy was inspired to write these lyrics when he took shel­ter from a storm un­der a rocky over­hang near Eng­land’s Ched­dar Gorge; he re­port­ed­ly wrote the words on a play­ing card.

This hymn was sung at the fun­e­ral of William Glad­stone in West­min­ster Ab­bey, Lon­don, Eng­land. Prince Albert of Britain asked it be sung to him as he lay dy­ing. The hymn was al­so re­port­ed­ly sung at the fun­er­al of Amer­i­can Pre­si­dent Ben­ja­min Har­ri­son be­cause it was his fa­vo­rite hymn, and the on­ly one he ev­er tried to sing.

 

The Sands of Time Are Sinking

Born to a doctor on April 27, 1824, in Kingston-upon-Hull, Yorkshire, England, Anne married William Counsin and served as a Pastor's wife in the Free Church of Scotland. Her home was in Anwoth (Galloway) on the England/Scotland border and she refers to it in her poem. It is the portal city of England's megaliths - huge rock outcroppings and home to aviaries. Bishop Ussher passed away in the parsonage in Anwoth.

She wrote hundreds of poems, contributing many to periodicals and 7 published in hymnals of the Presbyterian Church. She died at age 84 in Edinburgh, Scotland.

This is her favorite work, and our modern hymnals usually contain only a few verses. It is well worth the read, to sense her heart and her longing (at age 54) to see Heaven.