Has anyone ever asked if you were more of a mountain or a beach person? I expect that the answer to that question for many people has a lot to do with where they were raised. Hailing from the hills of Western New York, my spirit is most at rest when I’m roaming through a forest dappled in sunlight (or, more likely, a forest blanketed in snow!). In “The Lay of the Last Minstrel,” Sir Walter Scott penned the famous lines:
Breathes there the man, with soul so dead, Who never to himself hath said, This is my own, my native land! Whose heart hath ne’er within him burn’d, As home his footsteps he hath turn’d From wandering on a foreign strand! At this point, you may be wondering what all of this has to do with hymns! Well, in the same way that people often resonate with a landscape from their youth, I believe many are also drawn to a worship style that is familiar to them. For me, this means hymns. I spent the first 20 years of my life attending a Wesleyan church. Wesleyan churches are named in honor of an Anglican priest, John Wesley, who is considered the founder of Methodism. John’s brother, Charles, composed over 6,500 hymns, so, as you can imagine, most Wesleyans love hymns! Our son, Wesley, is named in recognition of the legacy of these two men. While I have matured enough to recognize the beauty in other forms of music, hymns will always have the greatest spiritual impact on me. So often they have fascinating (and usually heart-wrenching) stories behind why they were composed (i.e., “It is Well with My Soul,” “Stand up, Stand up for Jesus,” “Battle Hymn of the Republic,” “What a Friend We Have in Jesus,” etc.). In closing, I’d like to share the lyrics to a hymn written by Isaac Watts (the father of English hymnody) in the 1700s and titled, “O God our Help in Ages Past.” He patterned this song after Psalm 90 which scholars believe was composed in the midst of tremendous political upheaval (sound familiar?) due to the death of King Josiah. Similarly, Watts’ England was facing a national crisis (nothing new under the sun?) over the Protestant/Catholic divide when he wrote these confident words: O God, our help in ages past, Our hope for years to come, Our shelter from the stormy blast, And our eternal home. Under the shadow of your throne Your saints have dwelt secure. Sufficient is your arm alone, And our defense is sure. Before the hills in order stand, Or earth received its frame, From everlasting you are God, To endless years the same. A thousand ages in your sight Are like an evening gone, Short as the watch that ends the night Before the rising sun. Time, like an ever-rolling stream. Soon bears us all away We fly forgotten, as a dream Dies at the op’ning day. O God, our help in ages past, Our hope for years to come, Still be our guard while troubles last, And our eternal home. May we cling to Him who has been and ever shall be our Hope, our Help, and our Shelter from the storm!
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